The Ivy League Hustle (I Went to Princeton, Bitch) - YouTube:
'via Blog this'
Oh how I can relate! I love this! She is brilliant!
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Portland Cello Project Covering Kanye West "All of the Lights"
I can't get enough of this...Enjoy! New Blog entry coming soon!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
So, another year has passed. As you can clearly see, I was not on my grind last year with the blog. One of my promises to myself this year is to feed my spirit and write, honestly and often! For about 12 plus years or so, every New Year's Eve a few of my sister friends & I write letters to ourselves outlining our goals for the upcoming year, after reflecting on the past year. From my examination, 2009 was a pretty ok year. I traveled a few times. I spent meaningful time with several of my closest friends that I don't get to see very often. I went to the Inauguration of Barack Obama, in the freezing cold, broken foot and all! I moved! I moved?!?! I moved. (I'll get back to the move in my next post. That was an experience for sure!) Anyway, I was/am employed, when so many others weren't/aren't. I got to spend time with my 90+ year old grandma! This summer I took salsa & pilates classes, and sucked @ both, but I tried them nonetheless. I sucked @ salsa because of the auditory issues I have. And I sucked @ pilates because of the auditory & because big boobs don't really work with pilates. I saw some wonderful films, engaging exhibits, and crazy ass people in the NYC parks! I also spent a lot of time, too much even, in contemplation.
On January 1st actually, I finally sat down to write my letter to myself. After I completed the letter, it became clear that a theme had emerged. The theme was trust. Trust is an ever present theme in my life it seems. Jobs have been quit, due to lack of trust. Lovers cut off after being deemed untrustworthy. Friendships have ended after feelings of mistrust emerged. And I've even ended communication with relatives for whom trust and honesty seemed to be foreign concepts. The bottom line is that, I really need to work on my 'trust issues' in 2010.
This year I pledge to trust my intuition. There's this saying that goes, "believe them the first time they reveal themselves to you." I know it's true, and yet, I make excuses and dismiss that initial inner voice that says, "let them go!" This year I vow to use my intuition to guide me through new exploits, new relationships, and new locales. I've promised to trust myself and return to my 'One Bold Act a Month' rule. Having this in effect again, should make for a very entertaining year! I've also pledged to trust people who've earned my trust. Letting Shakespeare's words guide me, I take an oath to, "Love all, trust a few, and do wrong to none." Most importantly, I've promised to make myself a priority! Ok this is that last flowery quote I'll use tonight, in this entry anyway. In 2010, I promise to, "Live like there is no tomorrow, sing as if no one can hear, love like I've never been hurt, and dance as if no one is watching!" Perhaps you'll consider doing the same, it'll definitely make for a helluva year if you do!
Until.
On January 1st actually, I finally sat down to write my letter to myself. After I completed the letter, it became clear that a theme had emerged. The theme was trust. Trust is an ever present theme in my life it seems. Jobs have been quit, due to lack of trust. Lovers cut off after being deemed untrustworthy. Friendships have ended after feelings of mistrust emerged. And I've even ended communication with relatives for whom trust and honesty seemed to be foreign concepts. The bottom line is that, I really need to work on my 'trust issues' in 2010.
This year I pledge to trust my intuition. There's this saying that goes, "believe them the first time they reveal themselves to you." I know it's true, and yet, I make excuses and dismiss that initial inner voice that says, "let them go!" This year I vow to use my intuition to guide me through new exploits, new relationships, and new locales. I've promised to trust myself and return to my 'One Bold Act a Month' rule. Having this in effect again, should make for a very entertaining year! I've also pledged to trust people who've earned my trust. Letting Shakespeare's words guide me, I take an oath to, "Love all, trust a few, and do wrong to none." Most importantly, I've promised to make myself a priority! Ok this is that last flowery quote I'll use tonight, in this entry anyway. In 2010, I promise to, "Live like there is no tomorrow, sing as if no one can hear, love like I've never been hurt, and dance as if no one is watching!" Perhaps you'll consider doing the same, it'll definitely make for a helluva year if you do!
Until.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Just about two weeks ago I was forced to see something that I'd been successfully (or unsuccessfully) ignoring for sometime now. In the midst of a mini meltdown (full tears & ranting & all), I was forced to see my reflection. At the moment I'm not trying to be philosophical at all. I really do mean that someone made me see myself.
Being emotionally thrashed for the umpteenth time, I boarded an elevator. Replaying all the times before, when I'd been in the same situation, feeling the same way, again angry with myself for AGAIN forgetting or ignoring all those other times and setting myself up once again. I cursed me for being stupid, and for forgiving, and for analyzing, and making excuses, believing, trusting & most of all loving. How did I eff-up again, and end up dealing with this shit AGAIN???? Was I addicted to this feeling? Did I secretly crave pain & rejection? Was I trying to build up my writer's street cred? Or was this my self-imposed punishment for my sins of the past? "What was I thinking?" I cried, again.
Silently and simultaneously, crying & cursing myself, I tried to direct my escape from my latest emotional fuck-up. In a sliver of a second, I exited my own internal drama and heard someone else's on display. As a transplanted New Yorker, I've now abandoned my mid-western roots of responding to random strangers' rants, ravings and issues on the street. I've learned that for the most part, you mind your business. You'd be surprised what you can ignore on the streets or subway, once you've been trained by the lunatics!
Anyway, as I put a pause on my own mini-drama, I noticed this girl, probably early 20's across from me on the elevator. She was on when I got on, which I thought was strange because there are only two floors. I noticed she was intentionally facing the back of the elevator wall & crying. As I entered I remember thinking, "why is she here & not getting off?" Not my business! I got on and back to my meltdown. Her tears and whimpering interrupted my thoughts.
Without thinking, probably compelled by an extreme case of PMS & an emotional break, I asked was she alright? Strangely, in NYC, that simple question can bring all sorts of inappropriate or uncomfortable responses. Not this time though. She told me that she was waiting for her Ex-boyfriend who was supposed to pick her up. She said that she'd told him that she was there waiting and that he'd said that he was on his way, but that she was still waiting. And then she let out another cry again, almost out of exhaustion. She then thanked me for asking, and seemed too relieved to say out loud how she was feeling. At that point I wanted to cry too. I told her I was sorry & that I hoped things worked out. What ever that means. She thanked me once again, and I exited the elevator that I'd been holding open as we talked.
Taking the escalator to the next level, I was startled by what had just happened. That girl was me (10 years ago). I'd been in that same stupid situation 200 times in the past 10 years or so. There she was trusting (depending on) someone, she already knew she couldn't or shouldn't count on, trust-LOVE. I mean, he was her Ex-boyfriend, and there she was AGAIN, trusting him to come through for her, when he couldn't before on at least one occasion, that's why he was an Ex.
At 34, I should know better. And I did, but again I'd done it anyway. During my long journey home I tried to sort through everything. The only resolution I could come to was that I needed some sort of rehabilitation program. I needed something to help me move past all of this. I just wanted it to be over! I've looked with other heartaches and breaks, there is no clinic for getting off love! An no amount of chocolate, sex or wine makes an of the pain any easier.
Whenever I think of heartbreak I'm reminded of one of my favorite lines from Memoirs of a Geisha, "The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none." I feel like the only way to get past THIS, is to let it die and hope that something new can grow there again one day. Since the leaves aren't falling fast enough for me I'm doing my best to snatch them off the branch! Hopefully, lots of sad music and an iPod help speed up the process.
Until.
Being emotionally thrashed for the umpteenth time, I boarded an elevator. Replaying all the times before, when I'd been in the same situation, feeling the same way, again angry with myself for AGAIN forgetting or ignoring all those other times and setting myself up once again. I cursed me for being stupid, and for forgiving, and for analyzing, and making excuses, believing, trusting & most of all loving. How did I eff-up again, and end up dealing with this shit AGAIN???? Was I addicted to this feeling? Did I secretly crave pain & rejection? Was I trying to build up my writer's street cred? Or was this my self-imposed punishment for my sins of the past? "What was I thinking?" I cried, again.
Silently and simultaneously, crying & cursing myself, I tried to direct my escape from my latest emotional fuck-up. In a sliver of a second, I exited my own internal drama and heard someone else's on display. As a transplanted New Yorker, I've now abandoned my mid-western roots of responding to random strangers' rants, ravings and issues on the street. I've learned that for the most part, you mind your business. You'd be surprised what you can ignore on the streets or subway, once you've been trained by the lunatics!
Anyway, as I put a pause on my own mini-drama, I noticed this girl, probably early 20's across from me on the elevator. She was on when I got on, which I thought was strange because there are only two floors. I noticed she was intentionally facing the back of the elevator wall & crying. As I entered I remember thinking, "why is she here & not getting off?" Not my business! I got on and back to my meltdown. Her tears and whimpering interrupted my thoughts.
Without thinking, probably compelled by an extreme case of PMS & an emotional break, I asked was she alright? Strangely, in NYC, that simple question can bring all sorts of inappropriate or uncomfortable responses. Not this time though. She told me that she was waiting for her Ex-boyfriend who was supposed to pick her up. She said that she'd told him that she was there waiting and that he'd said that he was on his way, but that she was still waiting. And then she let out another cry again, almost out of exhaustion. She then thanked me for asking, and seemed too relieved to say out loud how she was feeling. At that point I wanted to cry too. I told her I was sorry & that I hoped things worked out. What ever that means. She thanked me once again, and I exited the elevator that I'd been holding open as we talked.
Taking the escalator to the next level, I was startled by what had just happened. That girl was me (10 years ago). I'd been in that same stupid situation 200 times in the past 10 years or so. There she was trusting (depending on) someone, she already knew she couldn't or shouldn't count on, trust-LOVE. I mean, he was her Ex-boyfriend, and there she was AGAIN, trusting him to come through for her, when he couldn't before on at least one occasion, that's why he was an Ex.
At 34, I should know better. And I did, but again I'd done it anyway. During my long journey home I tried to sort through everything. The only resolution I could come to was that I needed some sort of rehabilitation program. I needed something to help me move past all of this. I just wanted it to be over! I've looked with other heartaches and breaks, there is no clinic for getting off love! An no amount of chocolate, sex or wine makes an of the pain any easier.
Whenever I think of heartbreak I'm reminded of one of my favorite lines from Memoirs of a Geisha, "The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none." I feel like the only way to get past THIS, is to let it die and hope that something new can grow there again one day. Since the leaves aren't falling fast enough for me I'm doing my best to snatch them off the branch! Hopefully, lots of sad music and an iPod help speed up the process.
Until.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Long time no write!
It has been a while since I published, so please forgive.
Well, a lot has happened!
I moved . . . and would you believe I left NYC! Well, not really . . . I’m in Brooklyn. But some days it feels like a far off land! Nothing like my old stomping grounds of Manhattan.
Although I must admit that while I have relocated to BK- the borough of Kings—the thoroughest borough—I still have not made it my own.
I don’t have a church (yea I go . . . sometimes). Haven’t found a drycleaner/Laundromat (well to be honest, the new digs are so nice I don’t really need one. We’ve got laundry in the building.) Ha!
Anyway, no favorite local grocery store, shoe store, vet, Banana Republic, nail salon or pharmacy. I haven’t even found a restaurant to deliver my evening meals (well that might be a good thing).
I must confess that I’ve been two timing my new borough . . .
Every free minute I get I’m running back to Manhattan like Bobby to Whitney! Every Saturday I wake up early, pack the pocket pooch up, grab my canvas shopping bags and take the L train to Union Square. From there I gather the goods I need to get—as if I live in some rural area and am traveling into town to stop at the “General Store!”
Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, the Farmer’s Market, Petco, Banana, Gap, DSW, my vet, it doesn’t matter—I can find them all on the Island! And most around 14th Street!
I’m also frustrated that the two trains that run by my house take me nowhere in my borough. I’m practically being forced to escape to the Island. The closest real park, Prospect Park, is like two bus rides away!
Believe me—my dog was pissed off the first time we did that nonsense. Once we finally got there (and met my friend) it was like 10,000 damn dogs there! I thought it was the Dachshund Fest in Washington Square Park there were so many dogs & folks. My friend encouraged my pup to “hurry up and play” because he warned that we would soon be flooded by a sea of baby strollers. Sure enough, as 9am hit (off leash hours ending), there began a parade of Bugaboos & Maclarens. The next time we tried it—same thing!!
Central Park never seems that chaotic. Except the 2nd Sunday of June, maybe.
It also pisses me off that I can’t catch a cab to or from my crib. I’m use to stepping out my front door on Lexington Ave. and hailing a cab all hours of the day and night. Nope, not here. Finding a yellow cab here is like playing Where’s Waldo! If you do find one they still won’t stop. Sadly, I must lie to get one to take me home. Well I can’t even get one to take me home from the Island. They just say, “NO!” But from downtown Brooklyn, I must lie about what neighborhood I really live in and give extremely vague directions to get a ride home. How sad.
I don’t wanna sound like a complainer or anything. I must say living in Brooklyn has its privileges! The Brooklyn Promenade is fantastic! I’m a limited bus ride away from my new school. A bus ride and mini walk from Tar’get! Ikea is now a bus ride or two away. FreshDirect delivers here. I’ve got a backyard!! My apartment is HUGE. I’ve got a walk-in closet and I finally have a bedroom door! And best of all, it’s cheaper than my old place!
Now that I think of it, Brooklyn ROCKS!
Until.
It has been a while since I published, so please forgive.
Well, a lot has happened!
I moved . . . and would you believe I left NYC! Well, not really . . . I’m in Brooklyn. But some days it feels like a far off land! Nothing like my old stomping grounds of Manhattan.
Although I must admit that while I have relocated to BK- the borough of Kings—the thoroughest borough—I still have not made it my own.
I don’t have a church (yea I go . . . sometimes). Haven’t found a drycleaner/Laundromat (well to be honest, the new digs are so nice I don’t really need one. We’ve got laundry in the building.) Ha!
Anyway, no favorite local grocery store, shoe store, vet, Banana Republic, nail salon or pharmacy. I haven’t even found a restaurant to deliver my evening meals (well that might be a good thing).
I must confess that I’ve been two timing my new borough . . .
Every free minute I get I’m running back to Manhattan like Bobby to Whitney! Every Saturday I wake up early, pack the pocket pooch up, grab my canvas shopping bags and take the L train to Union Square. From there I gather the goods I need to get—as if I live in some rural area and am traveling into town to stop at the “General Store!”
Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, the Farmer’s Market, Petco, Banana, Gap, DSW, my vet, it doesn’t matter—I can find them all on the Island! And most around 14th Street!
I’m also frustrated that the two trains that run by my house take me nowhere in my borough. I’m practically being forced to escape to the Island. The closest real park, Prospect Park, is like two bus rides away!
Believe me—my dog was pissed off the first time we did that nonsense. Once we finally got there (and met my friend) it was like 10,000 damn dogs there! I thought it was the Dachshund Fest in Washington Square Park there were so many dogs & folks. My friend encouraged my pup to “hurry up and play” because he warned that we would soon be flooded by a sea of baby strollers. Sure enough, as 9am hit (off leash hours ending), there began a parade of Bugaboos & Maclarens. The next time we tried it—same thing!!
Central Park never seems that chaotic. Except the 2nd Sunday of June, maybe.
It also pisses me off that I can’t catch a cab to or from my crib. I’m use to stepping out my front door on Lexington Ave. and hailing a cab all hours of the day and night. Nope, not here. Finding a yellow cab here is like playing Where’s Waldo! If you do find one they still won’t stop. Sadly, I must lie to get one to take me home. Well I can’t even get one to take me home from the Island. They just say, “NO!” But from downtown Brooklyn, I must lie about what neighborhood I really live in and give extremely vague directions to get a ride home. How sad.
I don’t wanna sound like a complainer or anything. I must say living in Brooklyn has its privileges! The Brooklyn Promenade is fantastic! I’m a limited bus ride away from my new school. A bus ride and mini walk from Tar’get! Ikea is now a bus ride or two away. FreshDirect delivers here. I’ve got a backyard!! My apartment is HUGE. I’ve got a walk-in closet and I finally have a bedroom door! And best of all, it’s cheaper than my old place!
Now that I think of it, Brooklyn ROCKS!
Until.
Friday, May 25, 2007
I hope this message finds you well!
I’ve been in a self induced Ben Harper/Mary J/My Life coma for a few weeks now. Please excuse my absence. You know there are times when there are no solutions, only more dilemmas that come to light. Since my recent hiatus, as always, I’ve had an epiphany or two! Hey I wouldn’t be crazy, thinking, feeling, impulsive me if I didn’t. Now would I? Anyway, a few weeks ago I was blessed enough to see one of my closest friends marry in her words, her “best friend.” As a person who, for some time, has struggled to figure out what love is, I got a step closer to figuring it out because I got to see it on Saturday, May 12th, in a chapel in the woods! And I am forever, changed.
Since the dawn of modern man, people have been trying to sort this Love shit out. And with little to no success, I might add! There are so many efffin stories about what love feels like and how it should work, and how it sneaks up on you, and a bunch of other crap that I don’t wanna hear. Anyway, I know one thing, thanks to my brave friend & her nu hubbie; I know what it looks like. Love is easy. It’s comfortable. Love is infectious. And it is forgiving. Love is about laughing at the dumb stuff that you do (together). Love is never having to wonder, because you already know, or are soon filled in. Love is running together and giving each other hi5’s as you past one another, in a race back to the house. It’s taking a canoe ride together, while you hope your crazy dog won’t jump out the boat. Love is knowing that you’ve found the person you want to grow old with. Love is being brave enough to tell your best friend that you’re a better person because they are in your life. And Love can be seamless and effortless, when it’s right.
Anyway, all my pontificating on identifying love aside, I’m now on a quest to “Be Happy.” I know I’ve said this before, but it’s true. I mean, I meant it before too, but I really mean it this time! I’m in need of a Spring/Summer life house-cleaning. Don’t know where any of this will lead, but I know I don’t wanna be a dark, brooding, New Yorker for one more minute! I’m from the Midwest dammit!! I’m supposed to be (& use to be) happy!!! And since I can’t be happy there (the Midwest), I’ll make my happiness right here in the NYC! Even if it kills me, I’m gonna be happy.
Until.
I’ve been in a self induced Ben Harper/Mary J/My Life coma for a few weeks now. Please excuse my absence. You know there are times when there are no solutions, only more dilemmas that come to light. Since my recent hiatus, as always, I’ve had an epiphany or two! Hey I wouldn’t be crazy, thinking, feeling, impulsive me if I didn’t. Now would I? Anyway, a few weeks ago I was blessed enough to see one of my closest friends marry in her words, her “best friend.” As a person who, for some time, has struggled to figure out what love is, I got a step closer to figuring it out because I got to see it on Saturday, May 12th, in a chapel in the woods! And I am forever, changed.
Since the dawn of modern man, people have been trying to sort this Love shit out. And with little to no success, I might add! There are so many efffin stories about what love feels like and how it should work, and how it sneaks up on you, and a bunch of other crap that I don’t wanna hear. Anyway, I know one thing, thanks to my brave friend & her nu hubbie; I know what it looks like. Love is easy. It’s comfortable. Love is infectious. And it is forgiving. Love is about laughing at the dumb stuff that you do (together). Love is never having to wonder, because you already know, or are soon filled in. Love is running together and giving each other hi5’s as you past one another, in a race back to the house. It’s taking a canoe ride together, while you hope your crazy dog won’t jump out the boat. Love is knowing that you’ve found the person you want to grow old with. Love is being brave enough to tell your best friend that you’re a better person because they are in your life. And Love can be seamless and effortless, when it’s right.
Anyway, all my pontificating on identifying love aside, I’m now on a quest to “Be Happy.” I know I’ve said this before, but it’s true. I mean, I meant it before too, but I really mean it this time! I’m in need of a Spring/Summer life house-cleaning. Don’t know where any of this will lead, but I know I don’t wanna be a dark, brooding, New Yorker for one more minute! I’m from the Midwest dammit!! I’m supposed to be (& use to be) happy!!! And since I can’t be happy there (the Midwest), I’ll make my happiness right here in the NYC! Even if it kills me, I’m gonna be happy.
Until.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Some things happen divinely! I came across this & thought I’d share. Words that I’m trying to live by!!
“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. . .” –Fr. Alfred D’Souza
“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. . .” –Fr. Alfred D’Souza
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