Monday, October 24, 2011
The Marathon
You just keep going..... That was the advice that he gave her....those four words kept running through her brain, like a constant marathon which ironically was the motivation behind it in the first place. So today, she just kept going.... She just kept running. And when she got home, she kept going. She went to the grocery store and she downloaded a movie.... She kept going. She started to make dinner, and stared to watch the movie. She kept going. She looked outside and saw the sun starting to set. In a quick moment of spontaneity, she threw a bag together to head for the sea wall... Urged by something unknown inside of her. She kept going. She rode her bike quickly to the wall, and jumped up. She saw the silhouette of Mt. Fuji staring powerfully back at her... Also urging her to keep going. She stared powerfully back at Mt. Fuji as it slowly started to merge with the impending darkness. She kept wishing.... As the tall grasses rustled in the wind, she kept wishing. As the fishermen swooshed their poles in the air to cast for fish in the glassy river, she kept wishing, and they kept fishing. The fish kept jumping. And as Mt. Fuji faded into the night, she took a moment. She took a moment to stop.... to stop going, and to stop wishing. She took a moment to clear her head, appreciate her life, her family, her friends, her job, all the positive and wonderful things in her life that are the very reasons she keeps going.....every day. Life is like an endless marathon where you just keep going. You choose you path, you choose your pace. You choose your "running partners" and you choose certain challenges. It is a race against yourself, and how you finish that race can only be determined by you and how you choose to run. And in that moment of realization, she knew she was already a winner....and she kept going. -M
Saturday, October 15, 2011
An Apple a Day...
iThink it's safe to say that iGrew up on Apples. iDon't mean the kind that you slice and spread peanut butter on or the ones you bake in a pie, but iMean the ones that are shaped like boxes or notebooks, that have a small mouse that doesn't eat cheese, a bunch of buttons with letters and numbers, a screen that looks like a TV... and has the power to help you create, compute, and take a trip accross the expansive universe of information called the internet. iHonestly cannot imagine my life without Apple. iCan remember the first personal computer we had in the house, it was the Commodore 64. That was the only non-Apple PC we ever owned. iAnd my brothers of course used it for the ever-important Montezuma's Revenge, but my dad was always working late nights inputting information for the office and writing his own programming to do so... At the time, it was the best-selling single PC, but the IBM/Apple race was about to change all of that... and Apple would soon enter my life and change it forever.
Mr. Holly's computer Lab at school was a sea full of Apples, and his enthusiasm for these innovative machines certainly inspired me. For some strange reason his enthusiasm for the Final Four Brackets didn't inspire me as much as Apple. iCan remember early mornings running into the lab to play games on the Apple (II??): Oregon Trail, number munchers, word munchers, and other such games not stopping until the bell rang and it was time to head to class.
When we moved my sister Deb into college, Dad bought her a Mac Plus. iCan remember him setting up the computer for her.... it was so small! iCouldn't wait to get to college to have my own Apple someday...Our family went on to purchase such Macs as Mac IISi with printer, Mac Quadra, Power Mac G3, iMac in Blue for Ben for college, iTook the Power Mac G3 to UCI, Powermac 8500 for Tim at UCSB, my sleek Powerbook 2400c Laptop when I moved to Japan for the first time complete with a "critter cam", now Mom and Dad own a Mac Pro, Mac Mini, Apple TV, and two iPhone 4's.
My self-puchased mac history begins post-first-Japan-laptop with the first gen white iBook G3 followed by the G4 Aluminum, first and third gen white MacBook, and current Macbook Pro.....Plus First gen iPod Mini in pink, first gen iPod Nano in White, Video iPod in Black, iPod Nano ("fatty") in Pink, and Current iPod Nano (Clip-on) in Pink. Not to mention iPhone 3G, 3Gs, 4 and now 4s is on order and available for pickup tomorrow on its debut thanks to the timely cracking of my iPhone 4's screen.... hmmm? A message from above not to miss out on the latest Apple Gadget??? iSeriously cannot imagine my life without Apple....iAlso feel this innate allegiance to Apple and its products.... iCannot understand those who haven't caught on yet... iAlways thought that if iDidn't work where iDo, iWould want to work for Apple.
Apple has had the power to bring "home" a lot closer to Japan. When iFirst moved here, I had a set day where I would call home using a calling card... now, every morning, iCall home on Face Time and have coffee and a catch up with my Mom or with my friends who are sprinkled all over the globe. That, in and of itself, is priceless to me.
iCan only imagine what it must feel like to have the kind of brain that is capable of creating Apple products. We take for granted that these products will continue to show up on their debut day, and that they will continue to be better than the one before. It s rare that you actually take amoment to think about the people and brains behind these devices that have made our lives much easier and more convenient. Steve Jobs once said,
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
Well, now looking back, Apple has been a huge network of dots that have connected my life, my creativity, and connected me to family and friends. Thank you Steve for having the courage to trust your gut, because the difference it has made in your own life, has made differences multiplied exponentially for the world. -M
Mr. Holly's computer Lab at school was a sea full of Apples, and his enthusiasm for these innovative machines certainly inspired me. For some strange reason his enthusiasm for the Final Four Brackets didn't inspire me as much as Apple. iCan remember early mornings running into the lab to play games on the Apple (II??): Oregon Trail, number munchers, word munchers, and other such games not stopping until the bell rang and it was time to head to class.
When we moved my sister Deb into college, Dad bought her a Mac Plus. iCan remember him setting up the computer for her.... it was so small! iCouldn't wait to get to college to have my own Apple someday...Our family went on to purchase such Macs as Mac IISi with printer, Mac Quadra, Power Mac G3, iMac in Blue for Ben for college, iTook the Power Mac G3 to UCI, Powermac 8500 for Tim at UCSB, my sleek Powerbook 2400c Laptop when I moved to Japan for the first time complete with a "critter cam", now Mom and Dad own a Mac Pro, Mac Mini, Apple TV, and two iPhone 4's.
My self-puchased mac history begins post-first-Japan-laptop with the first gen white iBook G3 followed by the G4 Aluminum, first and third gen white MacBook, and current Macbook Pro.....Plus First gen iPod Mini in pink, first gen iPod Nano in White, Video iPod in Black, iPod Nano ("fatty") in Pink, and Current iPod Nano (Clip-on) in Pink. Not to mention iPhone 3G, 3Gs, 4 and now 4s is on order and available for pickup tomorrow on its debut thanks to the timely cracking of my iPhone 4's screen.... hmmm? A message from above not to miss out on the latest Apple Gadget??? iSeriously cannot imagine my life without Apple....iAlso feel this innate allegiance to Apple and its products.... iCannot understand those who haven't caught on yet... iAlways thought that if iDidn't work where iDo, iWould want to work for Apple.
Apple has had the power to bring "home" a lot closer to Japan. When iFirst moved here, I had a set day where I would call home using a calling card... now, every morning, iCall home on Face Time and have coffee and a catch up with my Mom or with my friends who are sprinkled all over the globe. That, in and of itself, is priceless to me.
iCan only imagine what it must feel like to have the kind of brain that is capable of creating Apple products. We take for granted that these products will continue to show up on their debut day, and that they will continue to be better than the one before. It s rare that you actually take amoment to think about the people and brains behind these devices that have made our lives much easier and more convenient. Steve Jobs once said,
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
Well, now looking back, Apple has been a huge network of dots that have connected my life, my creativity, and connected me to family and friends. Thank you Steve for having the courage to trust your gut, because the difference it has made in your own life, has made differences multiplied exponentially for the world. -M
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
3 Days
I don't know what it is about flying that makes me so pensive.... There is an inherent juxtaposition of emotions. Inevitably, you are always leaving something behind, but simultaneously, something also is awaiting you... It's almost as if the time in-between is a portal of thoughts, feelings, and emotions suspended in the air and supporting the aluminum wings of the plane.... You look outside the small windows and see the world slowly pass below the belly of the plane and realize once again that life will continue to go on whether you are there or not....
It was a particularly rainy trip to London this time. The rain welcomed me as I dragged my overpacked luggage from the train station to the taxi queue. The riots had calmed down, but not knowing for sure made me second guess every hooded-sweatshirt person I saw, gripping my luggage especially strong this time around.
I would return to the same hotel once again, hoping to see those familiar faces. For being far away from home, it certainly had become a place I could feel comfortable.... I had no idea what was awaiting me this trip, but now looking back, I wonder if I had the chance, would I have changed the way this week had played out? That is the question....
His name was James, and we met in the lobby lounge of the hotel. Introduced over drinks with friends, I immediately was intrigued. Maybe it was his perfect hair, or adorably perfect eyelashes, but in any case, I had had enough Peroni to muster up the courage to speak with him.
It's been a very long time since I had dated anyone, and the last time I tried, it really didn't end up well. I wouldn't consider myself someone who gives up, or becomes jaded, but I was really starting to wonder if it would ever happen for me again....
If all you had was three days, would YOU pursue it? Well, when you ask at the beginning of the three days, three days can seem like an eternity of possibilities.... But when you ask at the end of the three days, it seems like such a finite amount of time that was fun while it lasted....
We spent those three days with each other.... And my heart saw such possibilities. I found myself believing again that I am worthy of love (which ironically is the meaning of my name). James had the power to show me that I am desirable... The whole experience had the power to show me how much I want to share my life with someone, and to never give up in believing that it will happen for me someday. And for 3 days and a guy named James, I'd say that is pretty powerful.
I tried to enjoy every minute I did have with him... And I was amazed at how this feeling of excitement and wanting to love again made me feel.... I was floating on air...walking on sunshine amidst the rainy London sky.... I fell for him very quickly... And I blame it not on naiveté, but an eternal optimism and belief in love. And as quickly as I fell, the 3 days were over. I was left saying goodbye to someone I barely knew and yet felt as though I had known already for ages.... A small part of me fantasized that he would chase me to the airport and beg me not to go.... But this wasn't Hollywood.... It was London, and the 3 days were gone, just like James.
It takes a lot to make someone believe in something. And if 3 days and James could make me believe in myself, believe in love, and believe that it is waiting for me, then I am forever indebted to him.... I can't help but feel like it was meant to be.... I believe that, and I have no regrets, even though when I think of him, I feel a small pain in my heart.... But it has left a wide open place for 3 more days....and perhaps even the rest of my life. -M
It was a particularly rainy trip to London this time. The rain welcomed me as I dragged my overpacked luggage from the train station to the taxi queue. The riots had calmed down, but not knowing for sure made me second guess every hooded-sweatshirt person I saw, gripping my luggage especially strong this time around.
I would return to the same hotel once again, hoping to see those familiar faces. For being far away from home, it certainly had become a place I could feel comfortable.... I had no idea what was awaiting me this trip, but now looking back, I wonder if I had the chance, would I have changed the way this week had played out? That is the question....
His name was James, and we met in the lobby lounge of the hotel. Introduced over drinks with friends, I immediately was intrigued. Maybe it was his perfect hair, or adorably perfect eyelashes, but in any case, I had had enough Peroni to muster up the courage to speak with him.
It's been a very long time since I had dated anyone, and the last time I tried, it really didn't end up well. I wouldn't consider myself someone who gives up, or becomes jaded, but I was really starting to wonder if it would ever happen for me again....
If all you had was three days, would YOU pursue it? Well, when you ask at the beginning of the three days, three days can seem like an eternity of possibilities.... But when you ask at the end of the three days, it seems like such a finite amount of time that was fun while it lasted....
We spent those three days with each other.... And my heart saw such possibilities. I found myself believing again that I am worthy of love (which ironically is the meaning of my name). James had the power to show me that I am desirable... The whole experience had the power to show me how much I want to share my life with someone, and to never give up in believing that it will happen for me someday. And for 3 days and a guy named James, I'd say that is pretty powerful.
I tried to enjoy every minute I did have with him... And I was amazed at how this feeling of excitement and wanting to love again made me feel.... I was floating on air...walking on sunshine amidst the rainy London sky.... I fell for him very quickly... And I blame it not on naiveté, but an eternal optimism and belief in love. And as quickly as I fell, the 3 days were over. I was left saying goodbye to someone I barely knew and yet felt as though I had known already for ages.... A small part of me fantasized that he would chase me to the airport and beg me not to go.... But this wasn't Hollywood.... It was London, and the 3 days were gone, just like James.
It takes a lot to make someone believe in something. And if 3 days and James could make me believe in myself, believe in love, and believe that it is waiting for me, then I am forever indebted to him.... I can't help but feel like it was meant to be.... I believe that, and I have no regrets, even though when I think of him, I feel a small pain in my heart.... But it has left a wide open place for 3 more days....and perhaps even the rest of my life. -M
Single-ly Ever After
Circa December 2010
Once upon a time, there was a thirty something singleton maiden who longed for a prince...... Oh, hell... This chapter of my love life is so far away from a fairytale that even I cannot pretend to write it that way.
It was a moment in my life that I'd rather soon forget, but instead, I will write about it to rise above the utter a-holeness of the whole thing. The only way to look at this experience is to laugh and guffaw and the ridiculousness of some people's blatant lack of respect for anyone..... And hope that karma is truly the bitch we claim she is, and that she will come calling in some way, shape or form to his life.
The backstory? This is nearly six years ago, mind you...Well, as most bad dating experiences start, I had joined match, and decided that I wouldn't search, but see who peruses my profile. Low and behold, a nice looking guy from my college town gives me a hit, and I email him.
Enter 6 years of short email communications, failed attempts at meeting one another, and some unknown number of Facebook pokes which of course were initiated by him, and obviously didn't mean anything more than a click of a mouse.
Fast forward to the present, and the impending a-hole experience that I could really have done without. Both home for Christmas vacation, we decide to meet up.
The next series of events should have clued me in, but the hopeful singleton maiden in me couldn't let go of the hope that this could be the one that would save me. Little did I know that he would actually swoop me up, throw me off the horse and sell my location to the non-existent wicked witch.
Date was set. Place an location determined by me, but official request by him. THEN he asked if he could bring his brother. A few hours later, he would be wine tasting prior to the date.....then he was running late..... Then he was running even later.... Then he asked if I would meet him and his brother at their hotel room. YES I said hotel room. THEN he said no..... Then he asked if we could pick them up..... And he changed the location. I was flexible. Maybe too flexible, and for a dancer who has barely ever achieved splits in her life, this was really going above and beyond for the faint glimmer of hope.
His resume? Late twenty something early thirty something. AGE RANGE CHECK! Attending USC for Masters in Business EDUCATED CHECK! Already owns his own business JOB CHECK!! Loves to visit family in the bay area where he grew up. FAMILY GUY CHECK and BONUS: FROM BAY AREA
So, emails came.... "I'm so excited to meet you" "I feel like I've known you forever" little did I know it would all end with "I'm sorry"
I won't bore you with any of the awkward details.... He seemed nice, looked just like his photos..... Had a few extra s's in his speech which were questionable.... His brother looked young, and acted young.... But seemed nice.
My prego sis-in-law had joined up for a water on the rocks and splash of moral support. She didn't know what she was in for, and obviously neither did I, or we would still be at home with the family, eating peppermint ice cream and listening to pandora.
They didn't like the bar.... They said it was an older crowd.... We decided to leave.... Migrate...., but I wanted to make sure K got to her car okay.
Please fasten your seatbelt, because what you are about to read will seriously shock you. We headed back to walk K to the car.... And the boys trailed behind.... I was kind of worried about how I looked from behind, but that should have been the least of my worries.
I turned around, and they had disappeared. Gone. Like dirty alleyway ditch of a bad date. It was cold out, but my face went hot and tingly.... I panicked. Had I just been ditched? The day before Christmas eve? No, there must be some explanation..... 6 years of silly communication for a serious KO to the EGO? For someone that I barely knew, thought could be gay, and had more wrinkles than I could see in his pictures? No.... This was not happening!!!
Oh, but it was. We quickly turned around to try and find them.....as if there we some other magical explanation....like a credit card left at the bar.... They didn't tell us they had gone back because.... Uh.... Well... Whatever, we turned around anyway.
Back at the bar, there we saw them, entering the same place once again, thinking they had successfully dropped the extra unwanted baggage on the chilly cement sidewalk. I ran over and quickly brushed past the bouncer who had already checked my ID.... They didn't see me coming, and I grabbed his shoulder and asked him what he was doing..... His brother immediately walked out of the bar and pretended to be on some important call.... I looked my date in the eye and asked him what any normal girl would ask, "WHAT THE F%#¥?!!!!!
There was no life behind his eyes.... No look of guilt..... And he blamed it all on his brother. For a guy who had the balls to ditch a girl who had mustered up the courage to finally meet him after 6 years taking precious time that she only had with her family only once in a blue moon, he didn't have the balls to back up why he had done it.
I didn't wait for an explanation. I just walked away....in my new boots pounding the cold paved sidewalk.... I could see my own breath start to speed up, and I could feel the tears fighting their way past the back of my eyes like water ready to explode and break free from a dam.
I couldn't even secretly pretend it didn't happen, because my sis-in-law had seen it all a go down. I was being forced to face the bad music like being stuffed in a broken elevator where the music won't shut off.
And it would all end with a short and simple email of, "I'm sorry" from him which I promptly marked as junk. The deletion of the emails leading up followed quickly behind, and the "friendship" on Facebook was deleted..... as if it had never been there at all.
And she continued to live single-ly ever after.
Once upon a time, there was a thirty something singleton maiden who longed for a prince...... Oh, hell... This chapter of my love life is so far away from a fairytale that even I cannot pretend to write it that way.
It was a moment in my life that I'd rather soon forget, but instead, I will write about it to rise above the utter a-holeness of the whole thing. The only way to look at this experience is to laugh and guffaw and the ridiculousness of some people's blatant lack of respect for anyone..... And hope that karma is truly the bitch we claim she is, and that she will come calling in some way, shape or form to his life.
The backstory? This is nearly six years ago, mind you...Well, as most bad dating experiences start, I had joined match, and decided that I wouldn't search, but see who peruses my profile. Low and behold, a nice looking guy from my college town gives me a hit, and I email him.
Enter 6 years of short email communications, failed attempts at meeting one another, and some unknown number of Facebook pokes which of course were initiated by him, and obviously didn't mean anything more than a click of a mouse.
Fast forward to the present, and the impending a-hole experience that I could really have done without. Both home for Christmas vacation, we decide to meet up.
The next series of events should have clued me in, but the hopeful singleton maiden in me couldn't let go of the hope that this could be the one that would save me. Little did I know that he would actually swoop me up, throw me off the horse and sell my location to the non-existent wicked witch.
Date was set. Place an location determined by me, but official request by him. THEN he asked if he could bring his brother. A few hours later, he would be wine tasting prior to the date.....then he was running late..... Then he was running even later.... Then he asked if I would meet him and his brother at their hotel room. YES I said hotel room. THEN he said no..... Then he asked if we could pick them up..... And he changed the location. I was flexible. Maybe too flexible, and for a dancer who has barely ever achieved splits in her life, this was really going above and beyond for the faint glimmer of hope.
His resume? Late twenty something early thirty something. AGE RANGE CHECK! Attending USC for Masters in Business EDUCATED CHECK! Already owns his own business JOB CHECK!! Loves to visit family in the bay area where he grew up. FAMILY GUY CHECK and BONUS: FROM BAY AREA
So, emails came.... "I'm so excited to meet you" "I feel like I've known you forever" little did I know it would all end with "I'm sorry"
I won't bore you with any of the awkward details.... He seemed nice, looked just like his photos..... Had a few extra s's in his speech which were questionable.... His brother looked young, and acted young.... But seemed nice.
My prego sis-in-law had joined up for a water on the rocks and splash of moral support. She didn't know what she was in for, and obviously neither did I, or we would still be at home with the family, eating peppermint ice cream and listening to pandora.
They didn't like the bar.... They said it was an older crowd.... We decided to leave.... Migrate...., but I wanted to make sure K got to her car okay.
Please fasten your seatbelt, because what you are about to read will seriously shock you. We headed back to walk K to the car.... And the boys trailed behind.... I was kind of worried about how I looked from behind, but that should have been the least of my worries.
I turned around, and they had disappeared. Gone. Like dirty alleyway ditch of a bad date. It was cold out, but my face went hot and tingly.... I panicked. Had I just been ditched? The day before Christmas eve? No, there must be some explanation..... 6 years of silly communication for a serious KO to the EGO? For someone that I barely knew, thought could be gay, and had more wrinkles than I could see in his pictures? No.... This was not happening!!!
Oh, but it was. We quickly turned around to try and find them.....as if there we some other magical explanation....like a credit card left at the bar.... They didn't tell us they had gone back because.... Uh.... Well... Whatever, we turned around anyway.
Back at the bar, there we saw them, entering the same place once again, thinking they had successfully dropped the extra unwanted baggage on the chilly cement sidewalk. I ran over and quickly brushed past the bouncer who had already checked my ID.... They didn't see me coming, and I grabbed his shoulder and asked him what he was doing..... His brother immediately walked out of the bar and pretended to be on some important call.... I looked my date in the eye and asked him what any normal girl would ask, "WHAT THE F%#¥?!!!!!
There was no life behind his eyes.... No look of guilt..... And he blamed it all on his brother. For a guy who had the balls to ditch a girl who had mustered up the courage to finally meet him after 6 years taking precious time that she only had with her family only once in a blue moon, he didn't have the balls to back up why he had done it.
I didn't wait for an explanation. I just walked away....in my new boots pounding the cold paved sidewalk.... I could see my own breath start to speed up, and I could feel the tears fighting their way past the back of my eyes like water ready to explode and break free from a dam.
I couldn't even secretly pretend it didn't happen, because my sis-in-law had seen it all a go down. I was being forced to face the bad music like being stuffed in a broken elevator where the music won't shut off.
And it would all end with a short and simple email of, "I'm sorry" from him which I promptly marked as junk. The deletion of the emails leading up followed quickly behind, and the "friendship" on Facebook was deleted..... as if it had never been there at all.
And she continued to live single-ly ever after.
Time
-circa- December 2010
Time. It is what we wear on our wrists. It is what we carry in our pockets.We spend it more freely than money, and how we spend it can greatly affect our lives. We are born rich with it. Time is free. Time is precious. Time is irreplaceable. Time doesn't last, and it goes on with or without us. Sometimes time can seem like a waste. And other times, time just flies by leaving us wishing for more.
I woke up this morning to the sound of my brother and his family heading to the airport. The time was 4:00 AM and in just a few hours time, I would be headed to SFO in that same car.
I was sad. This Christmas, time just flew by like an airplane with a message attached to the back in red block letters. You look up, and it is there, and you look up again, and it has flown over the horizon.
It was time for me to get up and get packed again. This time, I had planned ahead, bringing an empty bag to fill with all of my favorite things from home. I had time to head downstairs and make coffee. I didn't want to wake my family before it was time for the rest of them to get up. But I just wanted to make sure I had just a little more time to sip my coffee, in my house, near the tree, before it was time to leave.
I managed to be relatively on time this particular morning. Everything was packed, and after finishing up loose ends, I zipped my tightly packed bags, carried them downstairs, and said goodbye to my family. Again.
It was a very foggy morning. It reminded me of a time when I was younger, and foggy mornings meant heading to school, or interesting drives through the city. It made me think of how saying goodbye, every time, has equally gotten easier and more difficult. It is easy because I have done it many times, but more difficult, because time has made us all older, and the time I spend away, the moments I miss, I will never get back.
We reached the bridge, and this time, took a slightly different route. I looked outside at the grey waters which seemed incredibly calm. Groups of black birds floated on the surface, riding the gentle crests, bobbing up and down. They slowly floated away into the fog, and I wondered how much time they spent on that bay, and if they were cold, and if at some time, I had ever been a bird.
This time, the drive was silent. The radio had been stolen out of the car a long time ago, and it had never been replaced. There was no bubbly music to cover up the inevitable..... The feeling of knowing it was almost time to say goodbye loomed over me like the fog over the city.... It was heavy and thick, and it lacked color or excitement. It was just something I had to go through..... minus the headlights.
I spent a long time waiting to check-in. The line moved slowly, but time kept ticking. The security checkpoint took time, but a handsome TSA officer made the time in line much more bearable. By the time I made it through, it was already time to board.... But, in time, I would find out that we would not be departing on time.... We would wait on the plane an extra hour until it was ready to fly.
I was sitting in the window seat this time. I preferred aisle, but was thankful to have something to rest my head against when I finally did fall asleep. I opened the shade, and as I waited for our departure, I could still see home on the outside of the plane..... I decided to close the shade, close my eyes, and sleep until it was finally time for takeoff. Christmas had come to an end, and it was time to go back.
Time. It is broken up into an infinite number of moments, memories, struggles, and accomplishments. Time is the measure of night and day, and the constant metronome of life and our universe. Time is the rhythm of a dancer, time is the tempo of a song, and the beating of your heart. Time is truly a gift. And this Christmas, I am reminded that it is gift for which I will always be grateful.
Time. It is what we wear on our wrists. It is what we carry in our pockets.We spend it more freely than money, and how we spend it can greatly affect our lives. We are born rich with it. Time is free. Time is precious. Time is irreplaceable. Time doesn't last, and it goes on with or without us. Sometimes time can seem like a waste. And other times, time just flies by leaving us wishing for more.
I woke up this morning to the sound of my brother and his family heading to the airport. The time was 4:00 AM and in just a few hours time, I would be headed to SFO in that same car.
I was sad. This Christmas, time just flew by like an airplane with a message attached to the back in red block letters. You look up, and it is there, and you look up again, and it has flown over the horizon.
It was time for me to get up and get packed again. This time, I had planned ahead, bringing an empty bag to fill with all of my favorite things from home. I had time to head downstairs and make coffee. I didn't want to wake my family before it was time for the rest of them to get up. But I just wanted to make sure I had just a little more time to sip my coffee, in my house, near the tree, before it was time to leave.
I managed to be relatively on time this particular morning. Everything was packed, and after finishing up loose ends, I zipped my tightly packed bags, carried them downstairs, and said goodbye to my family. Again.
It was a very foggy morning. It reminded me of a time when I was younger, and foggy mornings meant heading to school, or interesting drives through the city. It made me think of how saying goodbye, every time, has equally gotten easier and more difficult. It is easy because I have done it many times, but more difficult, because time has made us all older, and the time I spend away, the moments I miss, I will never get back.
We reached the bridge, and this time, took a slightly different route. I looked outside at the grey waters which seemed incredibly calm. Groups of black birds floated on the surface, riding the gentle crests, bobbing up and down. They slowly floated away into the fog, and I wondered how much time they spent on that bay, and if they were cold, and if at some time, I had ever been a bird.
This time, the drive was silent. The radio had been stolen out of the car a long time ago, and it had never been replaced. There was no bubbly music to cover up the inevitable..... The feeling of knowing it was almost time to say goodbye loomed over me like the fog over the city.... It was heavy and thick, and it lacked color or excitement. It was just something I had to go through..... minus the headlights.
I spent a long time waiting to check-in. The line moved slowly, but time kept ticking. The security checkpoint took time, but a handsome TSA officer made the time in line much more bearable. By the time I made it through, it was already time to board.... But, in time, I would find out that we would not be departing on time.... We would wait on the plane an extra hour until it was ready to fly.
I was sitting in the window seat this time. I preferred aisle, but was thankful to have something to rest my head against when I finally did fall asleep. I opened the shade, and as I waited for our departure, I could still see home on the outside of the plane..... I decided to close the shade, close my eyes, and sleep until it was finally time for takeoff. Christmas had come to an end, and it was time to go back.
Time. It is broken up into an infinite number of moments, memories, struggles, and accomplishments. Time is the measure of night and day, and the constant metronome of life and our universe. Time is the rhythm of a dancer, time is the tempo of a song, and the beating of your heart. Time is truly a gift. And this Christmas, I am reminded that it is gift for which I will always be grateful.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Email O'Clock
There's a magical hour... where the emails start to pour in to our mailbox, and make our phones, laptops, and ipads make that little ringing noise.... For a moment, you imagine who it could be sending you an email.... and then you hope for who you'd like it to be.... and for a fleeting moment, you even further dream about what it might say. Then you actually pick up the phone, check your email and realize it's that catalogue where you ordered your long underwear sending you an exclusive offer with another purchase.... it is soon followed by other similar emails, that quickly head to spam town....
Should I DELETE CONTACT? I swear just having it on my iphone is slowly starting to drive me crazy. Should I tear up that business card? Just knowing that it is in my wallet is making me nervous!!! WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?? We are surrounded by bright signs, especially in Tokyo, cute mascots, clever commercials and advertisements, maps that can locate us via satellite..... These signs and maps tell us where we are, what to buy, how to feel...And yet, deciphering the simple nuances of human interaction can be completely and utterly impossible. When did living in a world where technology and communication is so easy did trying to understand people become so hard? I guess if Apple could figure out an upgrade, or app, or new device that would read minds, my love life, or lack thereof could be understood a little better!
He told me that he thought I had moved on to someone else. I told him that I lived in Japan. It's not that he was a default... Its just that between work, and life, and a huge language barrier, the odds are definitely not exactly in my favor. They say it takes two to tango. Well, this is true, but at some point, it does become blatantly obvious that the accordionist has gone home, the club is dark, and I am left standing alone in a fabulous tango dress with only the faint memory of a dance by the worn out wooden floor beneath my feet. You can't tango with someone who's not even there in the first place.
From what I could tell, the night went extremely well. Hands were held, darts were thrown, drinks were had, pictures were shared, dancing was danced, and the night ended as it should have (or well, should have if we wanted to get caught misbehaving downstairs by his roommate) And in the morning.... It was a rush for the door, a quick kiss goodbye, a very hungover walk to the train hoping to God that I had enough on my suica to get home....and the slight impression that I may not see him again for another three months if ever. Do I really want to be that girl? Not really. Do I have much of a choice? Kind of...
Several back and forth meaningless texts later inititated by the both of us, I have come to realize that my call of duty was his call of booty! I mean, i know North Korea ans South Korea are on the brink of war, but was he seiously falling off the face of my earth again?? He did wish me a Happy Thanksgiving via MMS. He hoped that my turkey was delicious. THANKS! What is THAT supposed to mean? Have a nice life, I'll call you in three more months and see if you will meet up with me again? Or does it just mean that he really wishes me a great Thanksgiving, and that my turkey is delicious?. Well, it was.... And so was the stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie. And you would had known that if you had made some sort of an effort to call and ask..... Malone, tango party of one?
Friday turned out to be a saucy night. A very soy saucy night. Moving on from the front lines with my top gun, I got my nails done in Ginza and headed out with the single ladies of work. We were bar hopping like rabbits.... We finally found a place to stay a while, and the crowd seemed fun. The DJ was playing all of my requests, and it turns out the owner was not only hot, but wanted to buy us free bevies. (shots, I would greatly regret the next morning) a group of friends we dancing beside us, and one thing led to another and I was talking to a very unexpected gut who was totally not my type. I was having a very Charlotte York/harry Goldenblatt moment and decided to go for it. He was funny.... Well dressed.....spoke perfect English.... And was singing all of the music at the top of his lungs.... (karaoke??) and it turns out, he has some relation to a very famous soy sauce company.... Converstaions were had, cards were exchanged, phone numbers were input, a night out to dinner was offered, and kisses were exchanged (not sure who initiated that....and it could have very well been me)
It's probably a good thing I didn't discuss my loathing of seafood....sushi, etc... And my rare need for soy sauce.
And now, the card and contact sit taking up space in my wallet and the memory of my phone slowly taunting me while the little devil on my shoulder keeps whispering, "he's never going to call ( sinister laugh)" and the little angel on the other side pleads for me to not even think those thoughts in the worry that the universe may listen....
Should I DELETE CONTACT? I swear just having it on my iphone is slowly starting to drive me crazy. Should I tear up that business card? Just knowing that it is in my wallet is making me nervous!!! WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?? We are surrounded by bright signs, especially in Tokyo, cute mascots, clever commercials and advertisements, maps that can locate us via satellite..... These signs and maps tell us where we are, what to buy, how to feel...And yet, deciphering the simple nuances of human interaction can be completely and utterly impossible. When did living in a world where technology and communication is so easy did trying to understand people become so hard? I guess if Apple could figure out an upgrade, or app, or new device that would read minds, my love life, or lack thereof could be understood a little better!
He told me that he thought I had moved on to someone else. I told him that I lived in Japan. It's not that he was a default... Its just that between work, and life, and a huge language barrier, the odds are definitely not exactly in my favor. They say it takes two to tango. Well, this is true, but at some point, it does become blatantly obvious that the accordionist has gone home, the club is dark, and I am left standing alone in a fabulous tango dress with only the faint memory of a dance by the worn out wooden floor beneath my feet. You can't tango with someone who's not even there in the first place.
From what I could tell, the night went extremely well. Hands were held, darts were thrown, drinks were had, pictures were shared, dancing was danced, and the night ended as it should have (or well, should have if we wanted to get caught misbehaving downstairs by his roommate) And in the morning.... It was a rush for the door, a quick kiss goodbye, a very hungover walk to the train hoping to God that I had enough on my suica to get home....and the slight impression that I may not see him again for another three months if ever. Do I really want to be that girl? Not really. Do I have much of a choice? Kind of...
Several back and forth meaningless texts later inititated by the both of us, I have come to realize that my call of duty was his call of booty! I mean, i know North Korea ans South Korea are on the brink of war, but was he seiously falling off the face of my earth again?? He did wish me a Happy Thanksgiving via MMS. He hoped that my turkey was delicious. THANKS! What is THAT supposed to mean? Have a nice life, I'll call you in three more months and see if you will meet up with me again? Or does it just mean that he really wishes me a great Thanksgiving, and that my turkey is delicious?. Well, it was.... And so was the stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie. And you would had known that if you had made some sort of an effort to call and ask..... Malone, tango party of one?
Friday turned out to be a saucy night. A very soy saucy night. Moving on from the front lines with my top gun, I got my nails done in Ginza and headed out with the single ladies of work. We were bar hopping like rabbits.... We finally found a place to stay a while, and the crowd seemed fun. The DJ was playing all of my requests, and it turns out the owner was not only hot, but wanted to buy us free bevies. (shots, I would greatly regret the next morning) a group of friends we dancing beside us, and one thing led to another and I was talking to a very unexpected gut who was totally not my type. I was having a very Charlotte York/harry Goldenblatt moment and decided to go for it. He was funny.... Well dressed.....spoke perfect English.... And was singing all of the music at the top of his lungs.... (karaoke??) and it turns out, he has some relation to a very famous soy sauce company.... Converstaions were had, cards were exchanged, phone numbers were input, a night out to dinner was offered, and kisses were exchanged (not sure who initiated that....and it could have very well been me)
It's probably a good thing I didn't discuss my loathing of seafood....sushi, etc... And my rare need for soy sauce.
And now, the card and contact sit taking up space in my wallet and the memory of my phone slowly taunting me while the little devil on my shoulder keeps whispering, "he's never going to call ( sinister laugh)" and the little angel on the other side pleads for me to not even think those thoughts in the worry that the universe may listen....
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Fall
In the distance, I can hear the droning sound of the yaki mol truck slowly stalking the streets of urayasu-shi. It is a sound that has come to remind me of home, or of A home. It is also a sound that in the beginning of it all, slightly made me feel like a foreigner in a strange land... I didn't know what it meant.... I thought it was some sort of strange religious chant. Who knew it was just a guy trying to sell sweet potatoes?
The air is becomig crisp again, one of the four distinct seasons is beginning to show its face in the leaves and in the air and in the sky. It is fall in Japan, and I truly love this time of year. I think I have always loved it no matter where I have lived. I hiked Mt. takao this weekend amongst what seemed like the entire population of Japan. We all had come to see nature show its true colors. And while we were at it, grab an asahi and mochi on a stick on the way. Although a little early, some leaves had already begun their transformation while the majority of others remained green as if they were jealous of the colors of their unique neighbors.
It seems appropriate that things in my life would fall into place in the fall. It's like the leaves of my life are falling into a perfectly formed pile that doesn't need a rake. Its the perfect pile of leaves that you would want to just dive right into and toss up in the air in celebration. But even though certain aspects seem to be falling into place, it is inevitable that other aspects of my life are still clinging on like fall leaves that don't want to leave behind their branches..... They just can't let go.
In some sort of strange karmic challenge, two very unexpected people tried to make their way back into my life this weekend...on the same day. Maybe it is the fall season that makes people nostalgic? Maybe it is the chill in the air that makes people want to have someone around them? Maybe I am overanalyzing and it means nothing. Unfortunately for me, it isn't that easy. It completely threw me off, and now, once again, I find myself trying to have to forget about them all over again.
So as all of you change your clocks this weekend, I'll keep mine just as they are. Japan doesn't participate in daylight savings anyway. Instead of falling backwards, I am choosing to fall forwards. I will keep moving forward in the hopes to not let past mistakes work their way back into my life. Maybe instead, I'll set my clocks forward a few minutes.... live my life slightly in the future? Perhaps it will give me some perspective of what's to come..... Or maybe for once I will actually be on time and catch the bus instead of taking another taxi.....-M
The air is becomig crisp again, one of the four distinct seasons is beginning to show its face in the leaves and in the air and in the sky. It is fall in Japan, and I truly love this time of year. I think I have always loved it no matter where I have lived. I hiked Mt. takao this weekend amongst what seemed like the entire population of Japan. We all had come to see nature show its true colors. And while we were at it, grab an asahi and mochi on a stick on the way. Although a little early, some leaves had already begun their transformation while the majority of others remained green as if they were jealous of the colors of their unique neighbors.
It seems appropriate that things in my life would fall into place in the fall. It's like the leaves of my life are falling into a perfectly formed pile that doesn't need a rake. Its the perfect pile of leaves that you would want to just dive right into and toss up in the air in celebration. But even though certain aspects seem to be falling into place, it is inevitable that other aspects of my life are still clinging on like fall leaves that don't want to leave behind their branches..... They just can't let go.
In some sort of strange karmic challenge, two very unexpected people tried to make their way back into my life this weekend...on the same day. Maybe it is the fall season that makes people nostalgic? Maybe it is the chill in the air that makes people want to have someone around them? Maybe I am overanalyzing and it means nothing. Unfortunately for me, it isn't that easy. It completely threw me off, and now, once again, I find myself trying to have to forget about them all over again.
So as all of you change your clocks this weekend, I'll keep mine just as they are. Japan doesn't participate in daylight savings anyway. Instead of falling backwards, I am choosing to fall forwards. I will keep moving forward in the hopes to not let past mistakes work their way back into my life. Maybe instead, I'll set my clocks forward a few minutes.... live my life slightly in the future? Perhaps it will give me some perspective of what's to come..... Or maybe for once I will actually be on time and catch the bus instead of taking another taxi.....-M
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Empire State of Mind
Our plane took off from London and we slowly approached the blanket of gray clouds that comforted this amazing city on a Sunday morning. As we pierced a hole upward through what seemed like a thick layer of down, the layers gave way into the endless blue sky. I thought to myself, "I am so very lucky. And I really hope that God realizes I am aware of that." I don't know why I always ponder these things while flying....it must have something to do with being closer to heaven.... Or at least our perception of it anyway....
I am flying back to that city that at different parts of my life has meant so many different things to me. In high school, it was where I celebrated my 18th birthday at the Hard Rock and sang at Carnegie Hall with my school choir. I saw my first Broadway show, The King and I starring Lou Diamond Phillips. I looked upon the city in amazement for what the world had in store for me, and my life was only just about to begin.
In college, it was a place I strove to go, be successful, and pursue my dreams of Broadway. I studied with the best of my class as we spent a very busy month auditioning and learning the ways and skills needed to survive in NYC.
And when I finally did move to NYC, the ideal slowly turned into a harsh reality that I wasn't sure I could have fully comprehended unless I had experienced it for myself.
Now as I return, under such completely different circumstances, I think about the girl I used to be one year ago. Do I deserve this? All I know, is that with the circumstances I am given, I'll always strive to be the best person I can be, hoping that in the end it will always lead me to the right path.
In any case, it just feels good. I have an endless version of 'If They Could See Me Now' playing on repeat in my head. 'They' being a select few people from my life that didn't support me or believe in me. One person especially in particular who told me "You'll never be on Broadway, just buy a f$@&ing ticket and get in line with everyone else." Well, I suppose he was kinda right in the end. But, for what is was worth to me, "Broadway" just represented success in general, and for that, now I can honestly say that I am very proud of the "role" I play in the show that's "Mandy's Life". It's coming up on its 32 year..... I like to think even ALW would be impressed.
So with one hour left as we slowly descend downward into New York, there is a very small part of me that really looks forward to getting into a smelly yellow cab with crusty and cracked seats. I look forward to the sirens and the honking....the street meat...the gorgeous people going where they need to go.... Because now, they can't take anything away from me anymore.....well, I'm just gonna hold on extra tight to my purse anyway.....just in case! -M
I am flying back to that city that at different parts of my life has meant so many different things to me. In high school, it was where I celebrated my 18th birthday at the Hard Rock and sang at Carnegie Hall with my school choir. I saw my first Broadway show, The King and I starring Lou Diamond Phillips. I looked upon the city in amazement for what the world had in store for me, and my life was only just about to begin.
In college, it was a place I strove to go, be successful, and pursue my dreams of Broadway. I studied with the best of my class as we spent a very busy month auditioning and learning the ways and skills needed to survive in NYC.
And when I finally did move to NYC, the ideal slowly turned into a harsh reality that I wasn't sure I could have fully comprehended unless I had experienced it for myself.
Now as I return, under such completely different circumstances, I think about the girl I used to be one year ago. Do I deserve this? All I know, is that with the circumstances I am given, I'll always strive to be the best person I can be, hoping that in the end it will always lead me to the right path.
In any case, it just feels good. I have an endless version of 'If They Could See Me Now' playing on repeat in my head. 'They' being a select few people from my life that didn't support me or believe in me. One person especially in particular who told me "You'll never be on Broadway, just buy a f$@&ing ticket and get in line with everyone else." Well, I suppose he was kinda right in the end. But, for what is was worth to me, "Broadway" just represented success in general, and for that, now I can honestly say that I am very proud of the "role" I play in the show that's "Mandy's Life". It's coming up on its 32 year..... I like to think even ALW would be impressed.
So with one hour left as we slowly descend downward into New York, there is a very small part of me that really looks forward to getting into a smelly yellow cab with crusty and cracked seats. I look forward to the sirens and the honking....the street meat...the gorgeous people going where they need to go.... Because now, they can't take anything away from me anymore.....well, I'm just gonna hold on extra tight to my purse anyway.....just in case! -M
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Something Missing
She rode the train home. Standing close to the door holding on to the silver railing adding to the thousands of hand prints that had left their smudgy marks.... like a dog on a fire hydrant. She glanced out the window, and as the train gently rocked back and forth, her breath slowly frosted the glass to remind her that she truly was alive.
As her eyes focused, she went back and forth between her reflection and what was actually on the outside of the window. And when she combined the images, it was if she was gently floating over the Tokyo bay.
She looked down at her feet and wondered WHY she decided to buy the ugly sandals that now not only gave her a blister, but reminded her of a bad Bollywood costume choice. Oh, ya, because she thought they were comfortable and cute when she had tried them on earlier...It seemed funny to her how quickly her perspective had changed.
It was dark out and the city lights glowed like stars on the horizon. It made her wish she had a better view from her apartment. But ultimately, she knew it wasn't the view that was important, but how closely her home could feel like HOME. And it did feel like home. After all, she was comfortable there... she had a great coffee maker. She had a washer/drier combo! She couldn't remember the last apartment she had lived in where she didn't have to climb stairs to do laundry. In any case, she was headed home... late at night... to her coffee maker, her washer drier combo, and although she was happy.... there was something missing.
She knew exactly what was missing. She was missing someone standing beside her taking her home, and supporting her from the bumpy train and drunk business men. She was missing someone to have coffee with in the morning made from that fancy coffee maker. She was missing someone to talk to about her day. She had spent so much time with herself that the conversations in her head even started to feel one-sided. That something, was really someone. And it had been missing so long that she couldn't even recall whether she truly missed it anymore.
But as the train slowly traveled on the tracks that lead her home as they had so many times before.... She knew that out there, beyond the train car...beyond the window....somewhere maybe even in the lights of this dynamic city.... or beyond the horizon....somewhere someone else was missing something too... and that something was her and he just didn't know it yet. And the notion that he was out there, somewhere, gave her something to dream about....-M
As her eyes focused, she went back and forth between her reflection and what was actually on the outside of the window. And when she combined the images, it was if she was gently floating over the Tokyo bay.
She looked down at her feet and wondered WHY she decided to buy the ugly sandals that now not only gave her a blister, but reminded her of a bad Bollywood costume choice. Oh, ya, because she thought they were comfortable and cute when she had tried them on earlier...It seemed funny to her how quickly her perspective had changed.
It was dark out and the city lights glowed like stars on the horizon. It made her wish she had a better view from her apartment. But ultimately, she knew it wasn't the view that was important, but how closely her home could feel like HOME. And it did feel like home. After all, she was comfortable there... she had a great coffee maker. She had a washer/drier combo! She couldn't remember the last apartment she had lived in where she didn't have to climb stairs to do laundry. In any case, she was headed home... late at night... to her coffee maker, her washer drier combo, and although she was happy.... there was something missing.
She knew exactly what was missing. She was missing someone standing beside her taking her home, and supporting her from the bumpy train and drunk business men. She was missing someone to have coffee with in the morning made from that fancy coffee maker. She was missing someone to talk to about her day. She had spent so much time with herself that the conversations in her head even started to feel one-sided. That something, was really someone. And it had been missing so long that she couldn't even recall whether she truly missed it anymore.
But as the train slowly traveled on the tracks that lead her home as they had so many times before.... She knew that out there, beyond the train car...beyond the window....somewhere maybe even in the lights of this dynamic city.... or beyond the horizon....somewhere someone else was missing something too... and that something was her and he just didn't know it yet. And the notion that he was out there, somewhere, gave her something to dream about....-M
Friday, May 7, 2010
The Grass is Always Greener.....
The air conditioner unit on the wall blew cold air on her left shoulder... as if a ghost had gently caressed it longing to feel the sensation of touch once again. Her apartment, still muggy with the transition to warmer and more humid weather, felt sticky all over. Although she was happy to ditch her winter clothes, she also dreaded exposing the weight that has been easily hidden all these months. Now she couldn't even hide it from herself anymore. She sat in her home....her apartment... her room... dark with only the kitchen light that created the gentle ambiance she so desired. Typing away on a laptop that had seen so many days and stories with her, she was ready to replace it as if none of it had ever existed...
She had finally taken some serious steps forward in terms of defining what her life meant in the dictionary in her head. And yet, the overwhelming loneliness couldn't help but cast a shadow on the great progress that had been made in her life. Comparatively speaking got old a long time ago when all she ever wanted was someone to be waiting for her... someone to love her.... someone to miss her.
It's the second full day that he didn't contact her. A million questions ran through her mind like an SAT exam on a Saturday morning in a cold classroom. Second guessing every single second guess, she came to the conclusion that it just wasn't meant to be. And even if he did eventually contact her, why would she ever want to wait that long again? And was it her impatience that was the culprit of her feelings or his disregard? And was it really HIM who she wanted? Or was it SOMEONE? She couldn't see beyond those questions even in her own mind. It was as if she was standing in a white room with white walls and no windows and only one door. The door was behind her... or was it in front of her? It depended on her perspective. In any case, there was only one option, and it was to walk through the door and keep going.
These feelings in her heart brought new meaning to "the grass is always greener". Sometimes it felt like not only was the grass greener, but it was perfectly manicured by the HOA, with a pretty house, a picket fence, a water feature, a small dog, 2.5 kids, a great husband, and her family and friends living close by her....
But for whatever reason, she ended up on her side of that picket fence. And in her mind, making conscious decision to accept it, she turned her back to that dog, the pretty house, the gardener, and everything it came with, to see what else she could eventually find on her side of the fence. After all, on this side, she didn't need a lawnmower. -M
She had finally taken some serious steps forward in terms of defining what her life meant in the dictionary in her head. And yet, the overwhelming loneliness couldn't help but cast a shadow on the great progress that had been made in her life. Comparatively speaking got old a long time ago when all she ever wanted was someone to be waiting for her... someone to love her.... someone to miss her.
It's the second full day that he didn't contact her. A million questions ran through her mind like an SAT exam on a Saturday morning in a cold classroom. Second guessing every single second guess, she came to the conclusion that it just wasn't meant to be. And even if he did eventually contact her, why would she ever want to wait that long again? And was it her impatience that was the culprit of her feelings or his disregard? And was it really HIM who she wanted? Or was it SOMEONE? She couldn't see beyond those questions even in her own mind. It was as if she was standing in a white room with white walls and no windows and only one door. The door was behind her... or was it in front of her? It depended on her perspective. In any case, there was only one option, and it was to walk through the door and keep going.
These feelings in her heart brought new meaning to "the grass is always greener". Sometimes it felt like not only was the grass greener, but it was perfectly manicured by the HOA, with a pretty house, a picket fence, a water feature, a small dog, 2.5 kids, a great husband, and her family and friends living close by her....
But for whatever reason, she ended up on her side of that picket fence. And in her mind, making conscious decision to accept it, she turned her back to that dog, the pretty house, the gardener, and everything it came with, to see what else she could eventually find on her side of the fence. After all, on this side, she didn't need a lawnmower. -M
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Blog Salad
Here are a series of unfinished, unpublished blogs in reverse chronological order.... I couldn't seem to finish them for whatever reason. Lately, my urge to write is strong, yet my ability to organize the feelings into words is completely non-existent. I feel like I am a shaken soda can that just needs to settle in order for all of this to become clear... So, setting the soda aside, grab a plate, a fork, and hit up the blog salad bar... all you can eat.
*
I find myself fighting the natural progression of "growing up". The funny thing is that I don't want to go back either. Why is that? I can very clearly remember being told to enjoy being young because it goes quickly. And now, I can actually relate to what those adults were trying to say to me... It's like everything around me is changing, and yet in my heart, I feel the same as I always have felt.... just with a lot more memories than before...
Life is funny. Not like funny "ha ha"... but funny as in interesting.... coincidental... ironic... complex.... scary....amazing.... beautiful. I feel the urge to write. And yet, the thoughts won't come together in my head. I feel so much right now. I feel so much all the time.
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The Fever Talking
It is the day after Christmas.... what do some of you call it? Boxing Day? I sure feel like I have been in a boxing match! I had to work today, and about halfway through, a fever hit me like Mike Tyson and a TKO. Ouch.... symptoms galore, all I wanted was my bathtub....even if it was the perfect size for someone 3 ft tall. I may just be being punished for calling in to church... yep. I did. My friend invited me to Christmas Mass and I bailed on her... Do I feel guilty? Yes. I feel guilty about a lot of things. Which is precisely why I should have gone to church. But, I am just not a church-goer. How can I go to a place that feels so strongly about certain things being wrong, that I think are perfectly fine? I like to think that I am a pretty good person....not perfect by any means, but good.
OK... I digress... I didn't really want to get into a theological argument, I just wanted to write about the fact that another year has gone by... and this is the first year I didn't really feel like it was Christmas. I mean, I really tried! I listened to my Christmas mixes, I helped my parents put up their tree... I bought my treeless friend a tree... decorated cookies and gingerbread....and even made a turkey. But somehow, it still didn't feel right. I think the song, "I'll be home for Christmas" really hit me hard this year. I have spent almost 10 years trying to really figure out where home is.... and I still haven't been able to settle. Not because I don't want to, but because opportunities have come and gone... men have come and gone... friends have come and gone and I just haven't planted my roots.
*
I find today to be an appropriate time to reflect on every aspect of my life and how thankful I am to be living it. I know that gratitude should not only be felt on one day of the year, but on all. Admittedly, there are days where I forget just how lucky and blessed I truly am. Life certainly has a way of keeping you distracted! But, as I sit in my brother's house with my entire family watching the Macy's Parade, football, the smell of stuffing and turkey fill the room and evoke memories from all the years before. This tradition is very powerful. Happy Thanksgiving.
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Don't Answer
(Like so many stories begin)
......It was one of those nights. Newly-single with a rebound looming....all around me. I found myself in a bar which shall remain nameless. We'll call it, Bar on Smith St. I was with two of my partners in crime, Eric and Peter. We had been drinking most of the night, as usual. It was an impromptu outing spawned by 5 dollar happy hour cocktails at a local Japanese Restaurant.... Our happy hour turned into happy night....
With more drinks, the boys grew tired, and I became increasingly curious of all the patrons around me. Like a wolf ready to pounce, my blurry eyes scanned the room for potential prey. The boys wanted to go, and I understood. I said goodbye and told them I would stay for another drink at the bar. ALONE.
Note: Do not try this at home. Staying out at bar by yourself is very dangerous and could lead to incredibly embarrassing or potentially dangerous situations.
But, the lonely "she-wolf" in me thought it seemed like a great idea. So, I did.
I found an open bar stool and sat down proudly knowing that someone would speak to me at any moment.... and even if they didn't, at least I'd have the bartender! And for those of you who know me well, I have a tendency to become good friends with bartenders.
I came to find out that there was huge party there from a local Law School. Talk about JACKPOT! I was surrounded by tons of lawyers-to-be! And one poor guy decided to strike up a convo with me! I'd like to tell you what he looked like, but honestly I don't remember. I'd like to tell you what we talked about, but again, I don't remember. But, I do remember him saying, "Wait, are you here ALONE?"
Yep. (Awkward) I am. I am here alone! And there was a tiny part of me that thought, maybe this wasn't such a great idea.
That was the guy to the left. We'll call him Don't Answer 1. Then, there was the guy to the right. He's Don't Answer 2. He was taller, and darker, but that's about all I remember. I remember him impressing me a little bit more than D.A.1. I was closing one eye, you know the trick, to try and see a clearer image of him. At that point, I should have acknowledged the fact that it was time to go home....
BUT NO! There was still the bartender! After D.A.1 and D.A.2 had long since left the bar, I continued to shut the place down while keeping Bartender company. We laughed, about what I can't recall, drank some more, as if I needed it, and he told me to wait for him. So I did.
I wasn't sure what I was waiting for. What exactly was I planning to do at 3 AM? Thank goodness he was a gentleman, and walked me home.
The next morning, I awoke with several missed calls from unrecognized phone numbers. There were voice mails that I'd soon rather forget. Images like a slide show began to flash in my head from the night before: Saying goodbye to Eric and Peter - Grabbing a seat at the bar - GnT - Some blond guy to my left and some irresponsible public displays of affection - Some brown haired guy to my right - A Bartender with gorgeous arms laughing and walking me home. Three guys, who saw me in some of my worst moments, who I vowed to NEVER see again if I could help it. I quickly labeled the unknown numbers as Don't Answer 1 and Don't Answer 2 in my address book.
Not one of my prouder moments.... But "To err is human...." Right Mr. Pope?
To this day, I receive many a late night call from Don't Answer 2. I think 1 got the hint. It is almost on the verge of stalker level. So if you can take anything away from this ridiculous story in the pages of my life, it's
1) Don't go out alone.
2) Don't write your number on bar napkins, and if you do, write a fake one, and if they try and call you to make sure you didn't write a fake one, say you have to go to the bathroom and get the hell out of there.
3)Don't let bartenders walk you home.
4)Don't let your friends let you stay out without them.
5)Don't drink. (Well, have a few, but know when to say when)
6) If you do accidentally give your number out without recollection, just label the person as DON'T ANSWER in your address book and DON'T ANSWER!!!!!!!
*
To put an exclamation point or not to put an exclamation point..... that is the question (mark).
Why is it that punctuation holds so much power?? When you think about it, each punctuation mark by its very name sounds like some sort of unspoken bodily function (colon, semi-colon, period, etc) and yet, when used properly, they can manipulate your readers in such ways that can completely change the way a message may be interpreted....
(12:00 AM-text) Hey.... just got home.... sure, I'd be happy to come to work early tomorrow. See you at 7.
-or-
(12:00 AM-text) Hey! just got home!!....sure, I'd be happy to come to work early tomorrow!! :) See you at 7!!! :D
A few well placed exclamation marks can lead your boss to believe that you work ethic is infallible and that you are this year's number one nominee for employee of the year. Adding in those clever "emoticons" which are really just combinations of colons, parentheses, hyphens, P's, D's, etc, can really take your message over the top allowing your reader to actually visualize and believe that you are smiling, laughing, crying, sending flowers, kissing or even sticking your tongue out as you write.... riiiiiiiiighhhhht.......
:) :-) :o) :D :( :'( ;) :0 :P <3 @--->--->---- :* You get the picture....or emoticon. !
This all crossed my mind yesterday as I was walking down Lexington Avenue and I received a text message from my employer. It was a text about changing my hours for the week, ultimately resulting in fewer hours. On one hand, I was annoyed at the last-minute text. On the other hand, I was excited to have an extra day off. I composed my reply several times before settling on how I would respond.
"That's fine. Whatever works best for you." (No...... feels like I don't care...)
"That's fine!!! Whatever works best for you!!!" (WOAH! Way to excited and eager)
"Sounds good to me! Whatever works for you!!) (UGH Sounds like I don't want to work anyway...)
...so I decided on....
"Sure!" (Perfect... less is more)
*
How was the salad? For some reason, I am still hungry! -M
*
I find myself fighting the natural progression of "growing up". The funny thing is that I don't want to go back either. Why is that? I can very clearly remember being told to enjoy being young because it goes quickly. And now, I can actually relate to what those adults were trying to say to me... It's like everything around me is changing, and yet in my heart, I feel the same as I always have felt.... just with a lot more memories than before...
Life is funny. Not like funny "ha ha"... but funny as in interesting.... coincidental... ironic... complex.... scary....amazing.... beautiful. I feel the urge to write. And yet, the thoughts won't come together in my head. I feel so much right now. I feel so much all the time.
*
The Fever Talking
It is the day after Christmas.... what do some of you call it? Boxing Day? I sure feel like I have been in a boxing match! I had to work today, and about halfway through, a fever hit me like Mike Tyson and a TKO. Ouch.... symptoms galore, all I wanted was my bathtub....even if it was the perfect size for someone 3 ft tall. I may just be being punished for calling in to church... yep. I did. My friend invited me to Christmas Mass and I bailed on her... Do I feel guilty? Yes. I feel guilty about a lot of things. Which is precisely why I should have gone to church. But, I am just not a church-goer. How can I go to a place that feels so strongly about certain things being wrong, that I think are perfectly fine? I like to think that I am a pretty good person....not perfect by any means, but good.
OK... I digress... I didn't really want to get into a theological argument, I just wanted to write about the fact that another year has gone by... and this is the first year I didn't really feel like it was Christmas. I mean, I really tried! I listened to my Christmas mixes, I helped my parents put up their tree... I bought my treeless friend a tree... decorated cookies and gingerbread....and even made a turkey. But somehow, it still didn't feel right. I think the song, "I'll be home for Christmas" really hit me hard this year. I have spent almost 10 years trying to really figure out where home is.... and I still haven't been able to settle. Not because I don't want to, but because opportunities have come and gone... men have come and gone... friends have come and gone and I just haven't planted my roots.
*
I find today to be an appropriate time to reflect on every aspect of my life and how thankful I am to be living it. I know that gratitude should not only be felt on one day of the year, but on all. Admittedly, there are days where I forget just how lucky and blessed I truly am. Life certainly has a way of keeping you distracted! But, as I sit in my brother's house with my entire family watching the Macy's Parade, football, the smell of stuffing and turkey fill the room and evoke memories from all the years before. This tradition is very powerful. Happy Thanksgiving.
*
Don't Answer
(Like so many stories begin)
......It was one of those nights. Newly-single with a rebound looming....all around me. I found myself in a bar which shall remain nameless. We'll call it, Bar on Smith St. I was with two of my partners in crime, Eric and Peter. We had been drinking most of the night, as usual. It was an impromptu outing spawned by 5 dollar happy hour cocktails at a local Japanese Restaurant.... Our happy hour turned into happy night....
With more drinks, the boys grew tired, and I became increasingly curious of all the patrons around me. Like a wolf ready to pounce, my blurry eyes scanned the room for potential prey. The boys wanted to go, and I understood. I said goodbye and told them I would stay for another drink at the bar. ALONE.
Note: Do not try this at home. Staying out at bar by yourself is very dangerous and could lead to incredibly embarrassing or potentially dangerous situations.
But, the lonely "she-wolf" in me thought it seemed like a great idea. So, I did.
I found an open bar stool and sat down proudly knowing that someone would speak to me at any moment.... and even if they didn't, at least I'd have the bartender! And for those of you who know me well, I have a tendency to become good friends with bartenders.
I came to find out that there was huge party there from a local Law School. Talk about JACKPOT! I was surrounded by tons of lawyers-to-be! And one poor guy decided to strike up a convo with me! I'd like to tell you what he looked like, but honestly I don't remember. I'd like to tell you what we talked about, but again, I don't remember. But, I do remember him saying, "Wait, are you here ALONE?"
Yep. (Awkward) I am. I am here alone! And there was a tiny part of me that thought, maybe this wasn't such a great idea.
That was the guy to the left. We'll call him Don't Answer 1. Then, there was the guy to the right. He's Don't Answer 2. He was taller, and darker, but that's about all I remember. I remember him impressing me a little bit more than D.A.1. I was closing one eye, you know the trick, to try and see a clearer image of him. At that point, I should have acknowledged the fact that it was time to go home....
BUT NO! There was still the bartender! After D.A.1 and D.A.2 had long since left the bar, I continued to shut the place down while keeping Bartender company. We laughed, about what I can't recall, drank some more, as if I needed it, and he told me to wait for him. So I did.
I wasn't sure what I was waiting for. What exactly was I planning to do at 3 AM? Thank goodness he was a gentleman, and walked me home.
The next morning, I awoke with several missed calls from unrecognized phone numbers. There were voice mails that I'd soon rather forget. Images like a slide show began to flash in my head from the night before: Saying goodbye to Eric and Peter - Grabbing a seat at the bar - GnT - Some blond guy to my left and some irresponsible public displays of affection - Some brown haired guy to my right - A Bartender with gorgeous arms laughing and walking me home. Three guys, who saw me in some of my worst moments, who I vowed to NEVER see again if I could help it. I quickly labeled the unknown numbers as Don't Answer 1 and Don't Answer 2 in my address book.
Not one of my prouder moments.... But "To err is human...." Right Mr. Pope?
To this day, I receive many a late night call from Don't Answer 2. I think 1 got the hint. It is almost on the verge of stalker level. So if you can take anything away from this ridiculous story in the pages of my life, it's
1) Don't go out alone.
2) Don't write your number on bar napkins, and if you do, write a fake one, and if they try and call you to make sure you didn't write a fake one, say you have to go to the bathroom and get the hell out of there.
3)Don't let bartenders walk you home.
4)Don't let your friends let you stay out without them.
5)Don't drink. (Well, have a few, but know when to say when)
6) If you do accidentally give your number out without recollection, just label the person as DON'T ANSWER in your address book and DON'T ANSWER!!!!!!!
*
To put an exclamation point or not to put an exclamation point..... that is the question (mark).
Why is it that punctuation holds so much power?? When you think about it, each punctuation mark by its very name sounds like some sort of unspoken bodily function (colon, semi-colon, period, etc) and yet, when used properly, they can manipulate your readers in such ways that can completely change the way a message may be interpreted....
(12:00 AM-text) Hey.... just got home.... sure, I'd be happy to come to work early tomorrow. See you at 7.
-or-
(12:00 AM-text) Hey! just got home!!....sure, I'd be happy to come to work early tomorrow!! :) See you at 7!!! :D
A few well placed exclamation marks can lead your boss to believe that you work ethic is infallible and that you are this year's number one nominee for employee of the year. Adding in those clever "emoticons" which are really just combinations of colons, parentheses, hyphens, P's, D's, etc, can really take your message over the top allowing your reader to actually visualize and believe that you are smiling, laughing, crying, sending flowers, kissing or even sticking your tongue out as you write.... riiiiiiiiighhhhht.......
:) :-) :o) :D :( :'( ;) :0 :P <3 @--->--->---- :* You get the picture....or emoticon. !
This all crossed my mind yesterday as I was walking down Lexington Avenue and I received a text message from my employer. It was a text about changing my hours for the week, ultimately resulting in fewer hours. On one hand, I was annoyed at the last-minute text. On the other hand, I was excited to have an extra day off. I composed my reply several times before settling on how I would respond.
"That's fine. Whatever works best for you." (No...... feels like I don't care...)
"That's fine!!! Whatever works best for you!!!" (WOAH! Way to excited and eager)
"Sounds good to me! Whatever works for you!!) (UGH Sounds like I don't want to work anyway...)
...so I decided on....
"Sure!" (Perfect... less is more)
*
How was the salad? For some reason, I am still hungry! -M
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Auld Lang Syne
I am so ready to say sayonara to 2009. And, I find it very fitting that I will be doing it back in Japan. Today is an extraordinarily windy day in Japan. It is as if the year wants to fly away quickly into the past....
If you read my blogs, then you know how this last year has been for me. It certainly wasn't one of my best years by any means. But it definitely was a huge stepping stone to where I am today. And comparatively speaking, even the worst of my problems could not hold a candle to what some people have experienced this last year. One of my little brother's best friends just passed away from his four and a half year battle with brain cancer. I will always remember Matt when I think my world is crumbling around me. I hope I can find half of the courage he had to face my own life's challenges.
I heard that it was Japanese custom to do a massive cleaning of your home as the New Year approaches. I decided to participate in this custom. As I was cleaning and listening to music I had purchased throughout this last year, I decided I would ride my bike down to the sea wall and physically let 2009 go by bringing something from that year with me and letting it go into the water. For some reason, even though I am so far removed from the events and people of this last year, it all weighs heavily on my shoulders still. I guess "auld acquaintance" sometimes can't be forgot...
So, as I prepare to say goodbye to last year and hello to a new one from the rooftops of the happiest place on earth, I will be reminded of the many years that have come and gone in my own life. I will remember the moments, good or bad, the lessons learned, the ones that I have loved, the ones who have caused me pain, the beautiful music that has touched me, the dances I have danced, the songs I have sung, the tears I have cried, the smiles and the laughter, and I will be happy. I will feel new again. This journey through life is such a beautiful blessing.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
Happy New Year my friends. -M
If you read my blogs, then you know how this last year has been for me. It certainly wasn't one of my best years by any means. But it definitely was a huge stepping stone to where I am today. And comparatively speaking, even the worst of my problems could not hold a candle to what some people have experienced this last year. One of my little brother's best friends just passed away from his four and a half year battle with brain cancer. I will always remember Matt when I think my world is crumbling around me. I hope I can find half of the courage he had to face my own life's challenges.
I heard that it was Japanese custom to do a massive cleaning of your home as the New Year approaches. I decided to participate in this custom. As I was cleaning and listening to music I had purchased throughout this last year, I decided I would ride my bike down to the sea wall and physically let 2009 go by bringing something from that year with me and letting it go into the water. For some reason, even though I am so far removed from the events and people of this last year, it all weighs heavily on my shoulders still. I guess "auld acquaintance" sometimes can't be forgot...
So, as I prepare to say goodbye to last year and hello to a new one from the rooftops of the happiest place on earth, I will be reminded of the many years that have come and gone in my own life. I will remember the moments, good or bad, the lessons learned, the ones that I have loved, the ones who have caused me pain, the beautiful music that has touched me, the dances I have danced, the songs I have sung, the tears I have cried, the smiles and the laughter, and I will be happy. I will feel new again. This journey through life is such a beautiful blessing.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
Happy New Year my friends. -M
Monday, November 2, 2009
Origami 折り紙
Lately, my brain has taken an incessant interest in replaying the last year and a half of my life. I am constantly thinking of the gamut of emotions and experiences that I have lived in this last year. I begin to wonder whether I really lived it at all. Surprised by the recollection and realization of my own memories, the more I think about them all, the further away they seem to be. The less like me they seem to be. And it seems like a life that I never actually lived, but more like a story I heard somewhere at some time in some place I cannot remember.
It may be the first time in my life where I actually can say that I have regret. I don't regret all of it, but there are definitely some aspects that I wouldn't mind erasing from my history. Wouldn't that be nice? I know "they" say you can always learn from your experiences.... good or bad.... But now I know the meaning of making mindless choices that do not teach me a thing.... do not contribute anything to my life... and those I would rather forget.... But... I guess, in a sense, even realizing this, I may have learned something.
As I move forward, I think about the path in front of me and forget about that bumpy diversion that lead me to a place called Nowhere. There is a familiarity about what I face and also an overwhelming sense of the unknown. I feel as if I have a fresh start.... I am a clean and crisp, brightly colored piece of origami paper ready to be folded and molded into a beautiful shape....a shape that defines something...a shape that can stand on its own...a shape that is delicate and beautiful while strong and long lasting. Even if unfolded, the tendency will be to return to what feels right... each piece fitting right back into place... on the path where I belong.
It seems only fitting to compare life, especially mine, to the art of origami. It is truly a treasure. The paper can tear or stain easily if not treated with the utmost care. With proper thought and attention, it can be folded into a beautiful shape. I am beginning to see how my life is taking shape. What shape will yours take? -M
It may be the first time in my life where I actually can say that I have regret. I don't regret all of it, but there are definitely some aspects that I wouldn't mind erasing from my history. Wouldn't that be nice? I know "they" say you can always learn from your experiences.... good or bad.... But now I know the meaning of making mindless choices that do not teach me a thing.... do not contribute anything to my life... and those I would rather forget.... But... I guess, in a sense, even realizing this, I may have learned something.
As I move forward, I think about the path in front of me and forget about that bumpy diversion that lead me to a place called Nowhere. There is a familiarity about what I face and also an overwhelming sense of the unknown. I feel as if I have a fresh start.... I am a clean and crisp, brightly colored piece of origami paper ready to be folded and molded into a beautiful shape....a shape that defines something...a shape that can stand on its own...a shape that is delicate and beautiful while strong and long lasting. Even if unfolded, the tendency will be to return to what feels right... each piece fitting right back into place... on the path where I belong.
It seems only fitting to compare life, especially mine, to the art of origami. It is truly a treasure. The paper can tear or stain easily if not treated with the utmost care. With proper thought and attention, it can be folded into a beautiful shape. I am beginning to see how my life is taking shape. What shape will yours take? -M
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wake Up Call
Good morning Mandy. This is life giving you your wake up call.....
Yep. It's been one of those mornings. I was going through all of my clothes trying to organize and pack. Yes. Packing again. As I shuffled through items in my closet that I haven't touched in months or in some cases, years, I decided to try a few on.... Bad idea. They don't fit. One piece after another, zippers won't zip, buttons won't close, and some are like a Houdini escape act to even try and take off again.
I want to live in my sweats because they are comfortable. I avoid wearing my jeans at all costs. And I dread the thought of shopping because I know it will force me to see what size I really am at the moment.
SH*T SH****T SH********************T! How did this happen?
Well, truthfully, I know exactly how it happened. I fully participated in the process of making it happen. With every sip of alcohol, every serving of chips, guacamole, and salsa, with every slice of cheese, with every excuse for why I shouldn't go to the gym, I have not only made myself feel uncomfortable in my own skin, but I have continued to put my health at risk. Oops.
I scratch my head. I wonder if it is too late? Can I turn it around? I mean, look at Madonna! I can have arms like that! If I vow to NEVER eat cheese or drink alcohol again, eat like a rabbit, and work out four hours a day, every day, for the rest of my life.
And then I begin to wonder, is it all in my head? I mean, I feel fat-er. I look fat-er (to myself). But how do others perceive me? Well, I suppose that depends on whose perspective it is coming from.... If you ask the obese WalMart shopper, she'll probably call me a skinny bi$%&. If you asked Tim Gunn, he would say I am way too fat for even a plus size model. If you ask my mom and my gay best friend, they would simply say that I am beautiful just the way I am.
Well, thanks Mom and thanks Jere, but I can honestly say that I kinda do want my arms to look like Madonna's. Maybe I can eat like a rabbit! Lettuce is good! And working out four hours a day could be great! I mean, especially if I have some good tunes to listen to.... And who needs cheese anyway! I mean, when you really think about what cheese actually is, it's kind of gross.
So here I go. I am throwing away the mantra of Scarlett O'Hara: "I'll think about that tomorrow". I have already thought too much about it today. It is time to do something about it! It is time to feel comfortable in my own skin again! It is time to get to the gym!
Ok, well maybe after lunch!-M
Yep. It's been one of those mornings. I was going through all of my clothes trying to organize and pack. Yes. Packing again. As I shuffled through items in my closet that I haven't touched in months or in some cases, years, I decided to try a few on.... Bad idea. They don't fit. One piece after another, zippers won't zip, buttons won't close, and some are like a Houdini escape act to even try and take off again.
I want to live in my sweats because they are comfortable. I avoid wearing my jeans at all costs. And I dread the thought of shopping because I know it will force me to see what size I really am at the moment.
SH*T SH****T SH********************T! How did this happen?
Well, truthfully, I know exactly how it happened. I fully participated in the process of making it happen. With every sip of alcohol, every serving of chips, guacamole, and salsa, with every slice of cheese, with every excuse for why I shouldn't go to the gym, I have not only made myself feel uncomfortable in my own skin, but I have continued to put my health at risk. Oops.
I scratch my head. I wonder if it is too late? Can I turn it around? I mean, look at Madonna! I can have arms like that! If I vow to NEVER eat cheese or drink alcohol again, eat like a rabbit, and work out four hours a day, every day, for the rest of my life.
And then I begin to wonder, is it all in my head? I mean, I feel fat-er. I look fat-er (to myself). But how do others perceive me? Well, I suppose that depends on whose perspective it is coming from.... If you ask the obese WalMart shopper, she'll probably call me a skinny bi$%&. If you asked Tim Gunn, he would say I am way too fat for even a plus size model. If you ask my mom and my gay best friend, they would simply say that I am beautiful just the way I am.
Well, thanks Mom and thanks Jere, but I can honestly say that I kinda do want my arms to look like Madonna's. Maybe I can eat like a rabbit! Lettuce is good! And working out four hours a day could be great! I mean, especially if I have some good tunes to listen to.... And who needs cheese anyway! I mean, when you really think about what cheese actually is, it's kind of gross.
So here I go. I am throwing away the mantra of Scarlett O'Hara: "I'll think about that tomorrow". I have already thought too much about it today. It is time to do something about it! It is time to feel comfortable in my own skin again! It is time to get to the gym!
Ok, well maybe after lunch!-M
Monday, September 21, 2009
Thanks and Goodbye.
Thanks 2R.
Thanks Albatross.
Thanks Taxis for accepting credit cards and Livery Cabs for always honking to see if I needed you.
Thanks 3 flights of dirty green stairs.
Thanks Steve.
Thanks orange tapas bar across the street for the weekend fights.
Thanks Cavo (sort of).
Thanks HSH, Italy, L.C., MDC1, MDC2, MDC3. Am I forgetting anyone?
Thanks wine.
Thanks street meat smell.
Thanks Starbucks.
Thanks Lotteries at Shows.
Thanks New Dance Group.
Thanks Brenden.
Thanks auditions with long waits and not getting kept or seen.
Thanks agents: especially the geriatric ones that have hospital beds and ask you to grab their meds and forgot they had an appointment with you (and who and where they are).
Thanks snow.
Thanks Diego.
Thanks Sunday Brunch at Film Center Cafe for unlimited bellinis in new glasses every time.
Thanks Hop Stop.
Thanks J.
Thanks Japas 55 for keeping my karaoke alive.
Thanks Laura Rose Photography.
Thanks delivery of any food at anytime.
Thank you India (for Alanis).
Thanks LaDuca: You made my legs look like a dream.
Thanks Backstage.com.
Thanks Rhodes.
Thanks Akai Sensei.
Thanks subway: You always got me where I needed to go; except on a Broadway Stage.
Thanks Beckie.
Thanks submissions.
Thanks TKTS.
Thanks PAX for some great salads that I can never finish on my own.
Thanks again taxis.
Thanks Gyu Kaku.
Thanks Eric.
Thanks Crunch Gym: especially for the pole dancing classes and the unique people that take them wearing clear stilettos.
Thanks Park Slope.
Thanks Thai Food: I may have eaten so much that I don't like you anymore.
Thanks Bryant Park and your green metal tables.
Thanks pigeons: You always seemed to fly right at me and then dodge me at the last second.
Thanks Brooklyn Bridge.
Thanks Today Show.
Thanks iPhone 3G: without you, I would have been lost here.
Thanks Cobble Hill.
Thanks Lucien.
Thanks Hudson River Park.
Thanks Blockheads: I will really miss your black flower margarita.
Thanks CD guys on the street.
Thanks 3 hooded muggers: hope you enjoy my purse, LV wallet, all of my makeup and brushes, pink sony cybershot, and my favorite Diesel Hat..hope you have girlfriends (they must be so proud).
Thanks Lady Liberty.
Thanks Nanny Play Dates.
Thanks voice lessons.
Thanks guys selling M&Ms.
Thanks Naked Men Singing: see it for yourself.
Thanks Central Park.
Thanks Kate.
Thanks NYSC.
Thanks West Village.
Thanks Bartenders: You know who you are.
Thanks faint smell of urine all the time.
Thanks REALLY LOUD sirens all the time.
Thanks iChat.
Thanks (oh my) Duane Reade.
Thanks 73 Columbia Street.
Thanks hottie on the 2: I should have introduced myself, but you're probably gay.
Thanks Hugh Jackman.....yep. THAT Hugh Jackman.
Thanks Bleecker Park.
Thanks Peter.
Thanks Mariachi on the train: You always made me hungry.
Thanks Don't Answer: 1 and 2: You always picked the best time to call.
Thanks stoops.
Thanks Woodstock.
Thanks window AC units.
Thanks radiators: I used to be so scared of you, but you kept me warm, so thanks.
Thanks Rite Aid Manager: You lent me your plunger in the nick of time!
Thanks American Apparel: love your deep neck V.
Thanks Bodegas.
Thanks BDC.
Thanks Don't Tell Mamma.
Thanks Bumble and Bumble.
Thanks Camp: you brought back some great memories with Uno and Connect Four.
Thanks WTC: I will never forget.
Thanks Tattoo Parlor on St. Marks: You made me a star!
Thank you for being a friend. (Just because)
Thanks Staten Island Ferry for being free and orange.
Thanks Uggs.
Thanks Sleepy's: for the rest of my life.
Thanks Curb Your Dog signs: even though people don't always pay attention.
Thanks Top of the Rock.
Thanks Random Burlesque Show.
Thanks Poland Spring.
Thanks non-existant train between BK and Queens.
Thanks Ella Boutique.
Thanks for honking: All the time. NY drivers should just have a permahonk.
Thanks Jere and Jaime. See you soon.
THANKS MOM AND DAD: I could not have done it without you.
Goodbye New York City!
Thanks Albatross.
Thanks Taxis for accepting credit cards and Livery Cabs for always honking to see if I needed you.
Thanks 3 flights of dirty green stairs.
Thanks Steve.
Thanks orange tapas bar across the street for the weekend fights.
Thanks Cavo (sort of).
Thanks HSH, Italy, L.C., MDC1, MDC2, MDC3. Am I forgetting anyone?
Thanks wine.
Thanks street meat smell.
Thanks Starbucks.
Thanks Lotteries at Shows.
Thanks New Dance Group.
Thanks Brenden.
Thanks auditions with long waits and not getting kept or seen.
Thanks agents: especially the geriatric ones that have hospital beds and ask you to grab their meds and forgot they had an appointment with you (and who and where they are).
Thanks snow.
Thanks Diego.
Thanks Sunday Brunch at Film Center Cafe for unlimited bellinis in new glasses every time.
Thanks Hop Stop.
Thanks J.
Thanks Japas 55 for keeping my karaoke alive.
Thanks Laura Rose Photography.
Thanks delivery of any food at anytime.
Thank you India (for Alanis).
Thanks LaDuca: You made my legs look like a dream.
Thanks Backstage.com.
Thanks Rhodes.
Thanks Akai Sensei.
Thanks subway: You always got me where I needed to go; except on a Broadway Stage.
Thanks Beckie.
Thanks submissions.
Thanks TKTS.
Thanks PAX for some great salads that I can never finish on my own.
Thanks again taxis.
Thanks Gyu Kaku.
Thanks Eric.
Thanks Crunch Gym: especially for the pole dancing classes and the unique people that take them wearing clear stilettos.
Thanks Park Slope.
Thanks Thai Food: I may have eaten so much that I don't like you anymore.
Thanks Bryant Park and your green metal tables.
Thanks pigeons: You always seemed to fly right at me and then dodge me at the last second.
Thanks Brooklyn Bridge.
Thanks Today Show.
Thanks iPhone 3G: without you, I would have been lost here.
Thanks Cobble Hill.
Thanks Lucien.
Thanks Hudson River Park.
Thanks Blockheads: I will really miss your black flower margarita.
Thanks CD guys on the street.
Thanks 3 hooded muggers: hope you enjoy my purse, LV wallet, all of my makeup and brushes, pink sony cybershot, and my favorite Diesel Hat..hope you have girlfriends (they must be so proud).
Thanks Lady Liberty.
Thanks Nanny Play Dates.
Thanks voice lessons.
Thanks guys selling M&Ms.
Thanks Naked Men Singing: see it for yourself.
Thanks Central Park.
Thanks Kate.
Thanks NYSC.
Thanks West Village.
Thanks Bartenders: You know who you are.
Thanks faint smell of urine all the time.
Thanks REALLY LOUD sirens all the time.
Thanks iChat.
Thanks (oh my) Duane Reade.
Thanks 73 Columbia Street.
Thanks hottie on the 2: I should have introduced myself, but you're probably gay.
Thanks Hugh Jackman.....yep. THAT Hugh Jackman.
Thanks Bleecker Park.
Thanks Peter.
Thanks Mariachi on the train: You always made me hungry.
Thanks Don't Answer: 1 and 2: You always picked the best time to call.
Thanks stoops.
Thanks Woodstock.
Thanks window AC units.
Thanks radiators: I used to be so scared of you, but you kept me warm, so thanks.
Thanks Rite Aid Manager: You lent me your plunger in the nick of time!
Thanks American Apparel: love your deep neck V.
Thanks Bodegas.
Thanks BDC.
Thanks Don't Tell Mamma.
Thanks Bumble and Bumble.
Thanks Camp: you brought back some great memories with Uno and Connect Four.
Thanks WTC: I will never forget.
Thanks Tattoo Parlor on St. Marks: You made me a star!
Thank you for being a friend. (Just because)
Thanks Staten Island Ferry for being free and orange.
Thanks Uggs.
Thanks Sleepy's: for the rest of my life.
Thanks Curb Your Dog signs: even though people don't always pay attention.
Thanks Top of the Rock.
Thanks Random Burlesque Show.
Thanks Poland Spring.
Thanks non-existant train between BK and Queens.
Thanks Ella Boutique.
Thanks for honking: All the time. NY drivers should just have a permahonk.
Thanks Jere and Jaime. See you soon.
THANKS MOM AND DAD: I could not have done it without you.
Goodbye New York City!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Tales of Tequila and Times Square
Here I sit... on the last Saturday of summer.... MY last Saturday of summer in NYC.... in a Starbucks drinking a skinny vanilla latte that is making me sweat.... I need it because I had 3 margaritas at lunch alone in Times Square... and I need to be here so my phone can charge because I called everyone in my address book that would listen to me blab away this Saturday afternoon.... to perhaps not appear to be so alone.... And, I stalked Facebook until I had read every posting I remotely cared about reading twice...I had to interrupt the romantic couple to my right to plug in my charger...which only reminded me of the lack of romance in my own life at the moment....
A vendor sells cheap look-a-like handbags outside the window to tourists that pass by... the sidewalks, crowded with vacationers still manage to seem empty because they are all strangers to me. The BGM jazz seems to sedate me....or maybe it is a combination of the tequila and caffeine... and the thoughts running through my head about voluntarily leaving one of the most amazing cities in the world....
I migrate to Times Square. I sit at a round metal red table and an extremely uncomfortable chair...it's as if they don't want you to stay long... they encourage you to go.... Strange and unfamiliar languages are spoken around me... the masses migrate to see the lights that seem to fuel the city, but actually just repeat repetitive patterns that can be dimmed by the simple flick of a switch. Two Lady Libertys which are far-from-female beneath their green shrouds stand beside one another holding American flags, pose for pictures and pocket change atop of plastic crates.... I begin to wonder how many people may find me in the background of their photos... sitting, writing, and drinking coffee...-M
A vendor sells cheap look-a-like handbags outside the window to tourists that pass by... the sidewalks, crowded with vacationers still manage to seem empty because they are all strangers to me. The BGM jazz seems to sedate me....or maybe it is a combination of the tequila and caffeine... and the thoughts running through my head about voluntarily leaving one of the most amazing cities in the world....
I migrate to Times Square. I sit at a round metal red table and an extremely uncomfortable chair...it's as if they don't want you to stay long... they encourage you to go.... Strange and unfamiliar languages are spoken around me... the masses migrate to see the lights that seem to fuel the city, but actually just repeat repetitive patterns that can be dimmed by the simple flick of a switch. Two Lady Libertys which are far-from-female beneath their green shrouds stand beside one another holding American flags, pose for pictures and pocket change atop of plastic crates.... I begin to wonder how many people may find me in the background of their photos... sitting, writing, and drinking coffee...-M
Monday, August 10, 2009
Transition
As I sit alone, in an empty house, belonging to my friend, who was here when I needed him, the silence speaks loudly in my ears and resonates in my heart. The smell is familiar, the furniture colorful and comfortable. Memories of better times flash before my eyes like ghostly images come and gone. It has been a year and maybe 3 months since I decided to leave this house for New York. I didn't want to have any regret for not going. And now, I can only think of all the things I regret since moving there. They weigh heavily upon my shoulders, and I harbor a deep resentment for all the poor decisions I knowingly made. Like a beggar on a subway shaking his paper cup of change, I hold out my cup to the universe for the advice and guidance that I so greatly need. I want to turn it all around. I want to feel proud of myself again. I want my family and friends to be proud of me. And I do not want to be a burden to anyone.
While the pros and cons battle each other in my mind, I begin to feel the beating of my heart. With every beat, the what ifs, the whys, the hows, and the whens play a redundant and paralyzing message I cannot ignore. I won't ignore. It is time to listen to that little voice in my heart... the voice I have been ignoring for quite some time.
I give up. I surrender. I was unable to make it happen in New York. Whether I was actually capable or not, doesn't really matter anymore. What matters is that I have lost my happiness. I left a little at each audition that turned me away. I lost some as guys in my life came and went so quickly...I left some in each cocktail I served in the lat-night hours. I lost some with the sight of each and every homeless and needy person I could not help. I lost some to the three muggers who preyed upon me. I lost some when I realized how far my friends and family seemed to be. I really knew I had lost it, when even the sight of Broadway couldn't make me smile anymore.
It is time for smart decisions. It is time to make a change. It is time to find my smile again. I know I can, and I will. -M
While the pros and cons battle each other in my mind, I begin to feel the beating of my heart. With every beat, the what ifs, the whys, the hows, and the whens play a redundant and paralyzing message I cannot ignore. I won't ignore. It is time to listen to that little voice in my heart... the voice I have been ignoring for quite some time.
I give up. I surrender. I was unable to make it happen in New York. Whether I was actually capable or not, doesn't really matter anymore. What matters is that I have lost my happiness. I left a little at each audition that turned me away. I lost some as guys in my life came and went so quickly...I left some in each cocktail I served in the lat-night hours. I lost some with the sight of each and every homeless and needy person I could not help. I lost some to the three muggers who preyed upon me. I lost some when I realized how far my friends and family seemed to be. I really knew I had lost it, when even the sight of Broadway couldn't make me smile anymore.
It is time for smart decisions. It is time to make a change. It is time to find my smile again. I know I can, and I will. -M
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The Breakup
"They" say that, "all good things must come to an end." I suppose, inevitably, that is true. And in hindsight, in this particular circumstance, I am not so sure that this was such a "good thing".... (certainly not by Martha's standards... and it should never have been by mine) But nonetheless, it too came to an end. Today.
It hadn't been easy. Being the girlfriend of a devastated guy after the loss of a parent then thrust into a demanding career. I tried my absolute best, as I always do. Trying to fix things...trying to make it work, as Tim Gunn would say. But this is not Project Runway... and I am not next in line to be New York's newest fashion icon... I am just a girl in NYC trying her dream on for size... and so far, it has proven to be WAY too big for me.
I helped him move. I packed up EVERYTHING while he worked. I overlooked his complete lack of organization.... I helped him carry it all down the old stairs and up the new, so he could get to training on time. I helped him study. I researched the answers to his study guides and recited them to him as he drove three hours to training because his time management skills were completely absent. I consoled him when he needed it. I cooked dinner. I barely ever let him pay for me full stop. I cleaned his house when he didn't have the time. I didn't want my boyfriend living in chaos. I ignored his dependence on ambien, adderall, and anti-depression because I thought, hey... that might just be the perfect cocktail for someone who's lost a parent, can't sleep, can't focus, and needs to study. Nevermind that he got his prescriptions from some irresponsible doctor from his Pharma days that would write him a script for anything he wanted without an examination. I ignored the fact that he admitted to me that he used to be a pot head and almost lost his job. There were many signs of abuse... and I chose to ignore them.
NO! He is NORMAL! And he is MY boyfriend!
I mean, it didn't matter that he constantly made fun of me and my friends and my family members.... that always felt really good! It was also fun when he would call me, drugged up on ambien and wine and say crazy things he would never remember in the morning... like he was GAY.... WHAT?
Nope. No matter what you say, I love him, and he is MY boyfriend!
There were also those times where he would "joke" with me. Like the time he said if I didn't do something he'd "cut" me. And to take the joke further, he went into the kitchen, grabbed his biggest butcher knife and said again, "I'll cut you!"....then laughing at his "joke" asked, "you KNOW I was joking, right?" (Yep! We all like to play with butcher knives.... it's called method acting)
Nope.... My boyfriend is amazing. He works so hard. I really do LOVE him!
And in the beginning, his showering me of compliments, flowers, wanting me to move in with him were all the things he swore would never change. "This is me! This is who I am!" (he would say) (and I had thought I had won the boyfriend lottery) Well, those things all came to an end a long time ago...just like this relationship should have if I had accepted the above signs and realized what I truly deserved...
But, NO! He is my AMAZING boyfriend and I will always DEFEND him!
Why didn't I have the courage to break this off myself? I mean, I knew all along that he was not right for me... I kept making excuses for his odd behavior and attributed it all to the death of his father and the stress of his job. I kept painting our future with the colors he gave me in the first month or so of dating him. I held on to that painting in my mind like a coveted masterpiece in a museum. I wanted to own it.
He told me yesterday, as he broke up with me on the swings at a nearby park across the street from my new apartment, that there were some things that I just had not learned yet...and it bothered him. He told me I was un-motivated, did nothing on a weekly basis, and that I would never be on Broadway... that I should get a f* ticket and get in line with everyone else....that we were better off as friends.
Thanks, A$$hole. Got any more salt with you?
Well, he was certainly right about some things... Today, I still haven't learned how to stand up for what I deserve in a relationship. And yes, I am slightly un-motivated because YOU SUCKED it all out of me. And at the given rate, I probably wouldn't be on Broadway because I have been too busy trying to make this sinking relation "ship" stay afloat.
**SIGH**
I know what you are all thinking. I was crazy to stay with him. Well, love can seriously mess with your head. Am I glad it's over? Yes. Do I feel a sense of relief? Yes. Would I ever go back to him? Not even if it meant being cast in the starring role of Broadway's newest hit musical. And that certainly says a lot. -M
It hadn't been easy. Being the girlfriend of a devastated guy after the loss of a parent then thrust into a demanding career. I tried my absolute best, as I always do. Trying to fix things...trying to make it work, as Tim Gunn would say. But this is not Project Runway... and I am not next in line to be New York's newest fashion icon... I am just a girl in NYC trying her dream on for size... and so far, it has proven to be WAY too big for me.
I helped him move. I packed up EVERYTHING while he worked. I overlooked his complete lack of organization.... I helped him carry it all down the old stairs and up the new, so he could get to training on time. I helped him study. I researched the answers to his study guides and recited them to him as he drove three hours to training because his time management skills were completely absent. I consoled him when he needed it. I cooked dinner. I barely ever let him pay for me full stop. I cleaned his house when he didn't have the time. I didn't want my boyfriend living in chaos. I ignored his dependence on ambien, adderall, and anti-depression because I thought, hey... that might just be the perfect cocktail for someone who's lost a parent, can't sleep, can't focus, and needs to study. Nevermind that he got his prescriptions from some irresponsible doctor from his Pharma days that would write him a script for anything he wanted without an examination. I ignored the fact that he admitted to me that he used to be a pot head and almost lost his job. There were many signs of abuse... and I chose to ignore them.
NO! He is NORMAL! And he is MY boyfriend!
I mean, it didn't matter that he constantly made fun of me and my friends and my family members.... that always felt really good! It was also fun when he would call me, drugged up on ambien and wine and say crazy things he would never remember in the morning... like he was GAY.... WHAT?
Nope. No matter what you say, I love him, and he is MY boyfriend!
There were also those times where he would "joke" with me. Like the time he said if I didn't do something he'd "cut" me. And to take the joke further, he went into the kitchen, grabbed his biggest butcher knife and said again, "I'll cut you!"....then laughing at his "joke" asked, "you KNOW I was joking, right?" (Yep! We all like to play with butcher knives.... it's called method acting)
Nope.... My boyfriend is amazing. He works so hard. I really do LOVE him!
And in the beginning, his showering me of compliments, flowers, wanting me to move in with him were all the things he swore would never change. "This is me! This is who I am!" (he would say) (and I had thought I had won the boyfriend lottery) Well, those things all came to an end a long time ago...just like this relationship should have if I had accepted the above signs and realized what I truly deserved...
But, NO! He is my AMAZING boyfriend and I will always DEFEND him!
Why didn't I have the courage to break this off myself? I mean, I knew all along that he was not right for me... I kept making excuses for his odd behavior and attributed it all to the death of his father and the stress of his job. I kept painting our future with the colors he gave me in the first month or so of dating him. I held on to that painting in my mind like a coveted masterpiece in a museum. I wanted to own it.
He told me yesterday, as he broke up with me on the swings at a nearby park across the street from my new apartment, that there were some things that I just had not learned yet...and it bothered him. He told me I was un-motivated, did nothing on a weekly basis, and that I would never be on Broadway... that I should get a f* ticket and get in line with everyone else....that we were better off as friends.
Thanks, A$$hole. Got any more salt with you?
Well, he was certainly right about some things... Today, I still haven't learned how to stand up for what I deserve in a relationship. And yes, I am slightly un-motivated because YOU SUCKED it all out of me. And at the given rate, I probably wouldn't be on Broadway because I have been too busy trying to make this sinking relation "ship" stay afloat.
**SIGH**
I know what you are all thinking. I was crazy to stay with him. Well, love can seriously mess with your head. Am I glad it's over? Yes. Do I feel a sense of relief? Yes. Would I ever go back to him? Not even if it meant being cast in the starring role of Broadway's newest hit musical. And that certainly says a lot. -M
Sunday, July 5, 2009
The Glass Slipper
So, I moved away from Queens. I moved away from my first New York job, the horrible Greek restaurant that stared me in the face every day. I moved away from that dreaded street where those muggers decided I was their perfect target. I moved away from the little wannabe boutique and the Italian memories it held...I moved away from the plunger-giving drug store.... I moved away from the intersection where rivaling street meat vendors set up shop every single day on opposite corners filling the air with an odor that both made you hungry and a little sick to your stomach. I moved away from the place where the majority of the people I know live in New York. I moved away from the place that once held so much promise to a NEW New Yorker.
I decided to migrate south....
...to Brooklyn.
I moved to a place where I met my first boyfriend in New York. I moved to a place where trees lined streets with beautiful brownstones and converse-wearing people read books on their stoops. I moved to a place where Trader Joe's neighbor is American Apparel. I moved to a place where my window overlooks the East River meeting the Hudson and the south tip of Manhattan and Lady Liberty looks at me every morning and reminds me to get going. I moved to a place owned by a Japanese artist and her family who are also now my neighbors. (Is that really any surprise?)
There are bonsai trees on the window sill in the stairwell... My apartment is oddly Japanese in style.... and I feel like maybe, this apartment found me just when I needed it.
But, today, while tying up loose ends with my "old" apartment, I exited the subway on Steinway.... the street that tried just a little too hard... the street that couldn't decide its identity... the street that so many times, annoyed me and disgusted me, and even sometimes scared me... and somehow, today, it made me admittedly, a little sad..... I am not exactly sure why....
Perhaps it felt like I was running away.... or maybe it felt like I had been a bit defeated by my first year in New York.... Until now in my life, the "glass slipper" had fit perfectly (literally and figuratively), and for some reason, Queens/New York was not proving to be the kingdom of my happily ever after.... Would moving south even change the way this "fairy tale" was headed?
As a veteran of living a life as close to a fairy tale as one can, there was always something missing in those dear stories..... I always wanted more adventure, more struggle, more challenges.... to make the happy ending that much sweeter and deserved.... I suppose New York is giving me just what I asked for!!!
So, as I continue to embark on the adventure of auditions in crowded studios, odd jobs, the search for the ever-elusive equity card, the hunt for a decent agent, dance classes, voice lessons and coachings, acting workshops - my "happily ever-after", I can only dream that someday someone will hire me and slip not a glass slipper, but a La Duca on my foot.... a shoe that was born to dance the night away on a Broadway stage. -M
I decided to migrate south....
...to Brooklyn.
I moved to a place where I met my first boyfriend in New York. I moved to a place where trees lined streets with beautiful brownstones and converse-wearing people read books on their stoops. I moved to a place where Trader Joe's neighbor is American Apparel. I moved to a place where my window overlooks the East River meeting the Hudson and the south tip of Manhattan and Lady Liberty looks at me every morning and reminds me to get going. I moved to a place owned by a Japanese artist and her family who are also now my neighbors. (Is that really any surprise?)
There are bonsai trees on the window sill in the stairwell... My apartment is oddly Japanese in style.... and I feel like maybe, this apartment found me just when I needed it.
But, today, while tying up loose ends with my "old" apartment, I exited the subway on Steinway.... the street that tried just a little too hard... the street that couldn't decide its identity... the street that so many times, annoyed me and disgusted me, and even sometimes scared me... and somehow, today, it made me admittedly, a little sad..... I am not exactly sure why....
Perhaps it felt like I was running away.... or maybe it felt like I had been a bit defeated by my first year in New York.... Until now in my life, the "glass slipper" had fit perfectly (literally and figuratively), and for some reason, Queens/New York was not proving to be the kingdom of my happily ever after.... Would moving south even change the way this "fairy tale" was headed?
As a veteran of living a life as close to a fairy tale as one can, there was always something missing in those dear stories..... I always wanted more adventure, more struggle, more challenges.... to make the happy ending that much sweeter and deserved.... I suppose New York is giving me just what I asked for!!!
So, as I continue to embark on the adventure of auditions in crowded studios, odd jobs, the search for the ever-elusive equity card, the hunt for a decent agent, dance classes, voice lessons and coachings, acting workshops - my "happily ever-after", I can only dream that someday someone will hire me and slip not a glass slipper, but a La Duca on my foot.... a shoe that was born to dance the night away on a Broadway stage. -M
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
In the "Hood"
She woke up and squinted from the sunlight that pierced through the sheer curtain. She was still sore and her eyes were nearly crusted shut from the old tears and leftover make-up that had been applied the night before. She was reminded of the reality of her situation as the dream she had been in seemed to fade away in her memory like water descending down a partially clogged sink.
It had been one of those days. The challenges that faced her and the dreams she hoped for were one in the same. It felt like being in a marathon with a blindfold on her eyes. She didn't know where she was going and everyone kept running past her without a glance or a helping hand. She decided to give in to the city today.... she just wasn't strong enough to face it.... and besides, it was time for a good cry. She knew once she got it out, she would be okay.... she would be able to start the race again.
She took a nap to refresh herself. When she woke up, she got ready to meet her boyfriend. She knew that a night out would be good for her. As she got dressed and put on her makeup, she called her best friend. He was always able to make her laugh.... especially when she needed it! She kept him on the phone, even as she left the apartment, taking every precious minute of peak calling time to catch up with him. She laughed as she headed down the creaky stairwell and thought not to disturb her neighbors. She walked out the front door of the building and thought her hood was the perfect protector from the chill in the air. Ironically, it would be the very thing that would make her most vulnerable.
She ran into the deli below her house to grab a pack of gum.... Laughing at the familiar "isms" of her dearest friend, she headed on her usual route toward the subway. She couldn't wait to have her night out. The street was residential. It was poorly lit, but she had walked that way a thousand times. As she listened to him tell a story on her phone, a huge blow came to her back which thrust her towards a car parked on the street. Seconds seemed like an eternity.... she was confused, in pain, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw two hooded figures eerily beside her.... It became quite evident that she was being attacked...she imagined the worst. Would they stab her? Rape her? Kidnap her? All of the above? Was this it? One lunged for her purse and as she screamed for dear life, they ran away, with her belongings....and she ran screaming and crying.... toward someone or something that could possibly help her. All the while, her best friend listened to the entire exchange helplessly on the other end of her phone.... Not one soul came out of their house.... not one person on the street came to see if she was okay. She found a doughnut shop near the subway and ran inside an collapsed at an empty table. In complete hysterics, she tried to recount the attack to her friend who was still on the phone. A couple in the shop brought her a glass of water, and called the police.....
You never know when this could be you.... or at least, I never expected it would be me. But it was. I am lucky all they got was my purse... and they left me with a nasty bruise on my back.... It is a constant reminder of how lucky I truly am.... even in the worst of times. -M
It had been one of those days. The challenges that faced her and the dreams she hoped for were one in the same. It felt like being in a marathon with a blindfold on her eyes. She didn't know where she was going and everyone kept running past her without a glance or a helping hand. She decided to give in to the city today.... she just wasn't strong enough to face it.... and besides, it was time for a good cry. She knew once she got it out, she would be okay.... she would be able to start the race again.
She took a nap to refresh herself. When she woke up, she got ready to meet her boyfriend. She knew that a night out would be good for her. As she got dressed and put on her makeup, she called her best friend. He was always able to make her laugh.... especially when she needed it! She kept him on the phone, even as she left the apartment, taking every precious minute of peak calling time to catch up with him. She laughed as she headed down the creaky stairwell and thought not to disturb her neighbors. She walked out the front door of the building and thought her hood was the perfect protector from the chill in the air. Ironically, it would be the very thing that would make her most vulnerable.
She ran into the deli below her house to grab a pack of gum.... Laughing at the familiar "isms" of her dearest friend, she headed on her usual route toward the subway. She couldn't wait to have her night out. The street was residential. It was poorly lit, but she had walked that way a thousand times. As she listened to him tell a story on her phone, a huge blow came to her back which thrust her towards a car parked on the street. Seconds seemed like an eternity.... she was confused, in pain, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw two hooded figures eerily beside her.... It became quite evident that she was being attacked...she imagined the worst. Would they stab her? Rape her? Kidnap her? All of the above? Was this it? One lunged for her purse and as she screamed for dear life, they ran away, with her belongings....and she ran screaming and crying.... toward someone or something that could possibly help her. All the while, her best friend listened to the entire exchange helplessly on the other end of her phone.... Not one soul came out of their house.... not one person on the street came to see if she was okay. She found a doughnut shop near the subway and ran inside an collapsed at an empty table. In complete hysterics, she tried to recount the attack to her friend who was still on the phone. A couple in the shop brought her a glass of water, and called the police.....
You never know when this could be you.... or at least, I never expected it would be me. But it was. I am lucky all they got was my purse... and they left me with a nasty bruise on my back.... It is a constant reminder of how lucky I truly am.... even in the worst of times. -M
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