Soon. I promise.

I know. Everyone wants to yell at me (those who've noticed) for being out of touch. I'm sorry!! The semester just got so hectic with all of my classes and interning for amNewYork, the free newspaper, and trying to find time to see John (the boyfriend). Some quick updates before I have to grab the subway: 1. You can read my article on singer Will Knox here, page 18. 2. I've begun a new novel, this one about a magic fence and a punk rock singer. (I've been listening to too much Gogol Bordello) 3. Christmas is soon! I've got most of my Christmas shopping done, but have a few last minute things to get. I can't wait to wrap! Any cool wrapping tips? I'll post some ideas at a later date! 4. Finals are over in a week, so you can expect more frequent updates once they're through. Again, sorry for the long absence. Hope everyone who reads this blog is doing wonderfully during this holiday season. Peace & Love to all.

Still Sick

I’m sorry, I’m disappearing again. My cough is persisting, no matter what I try to do to stop it. I’m loaded with homework, and I’ve been doing an internship at amNewYork, this free paper in NYC.  I wrote a short article, which got published in it the other day, so I’ll post it here soon. For now, a poem I wrote for class:

On Making New Friends

For Matt

Scope out the landscape

for someone who looks alone.

Not necessarily lonely,

but unaccompanied.

Sit near them,

but not too close.

Stare for a while.

Right before they catch your eye,

look away.

Peer out the window.

Dig through your bag.

Shuffle through your Ipod.

But don’t try to look cool,

because then you won’t.

Notice them looking at you.

Float a smile somewhere

in their direction but

not exactly at them.

Let them wonder.

Check your watch a few times.

Make it seem like you

have somewhere to be.

Scribble something in your notepad.

Look bored.

Stand up.

Stretch languidly.

Glance at them as if to say

Why haven’t you

approached me yet?

Make them think

that you’re leaving

but at the last moment

place a slip of paper

on their lap, with

your name on it.

Run away.

Laugh to yourself.

Give them some time.

They don’t want to look desperate.

But if they track you down,

or, rather, when they track you down,

because they will,

you have successfully made a new friend.

Still Sick

That’s right; I’m still sick :(  I’ve tried everything I could think of, from actually taking medicine to color healing to drinking lots of orange juice, to tea, to lemon juice, to gargling with salt water….

Please, does anyone else have any suggestions on how to get rid of this hacking cough?!

Thanks!

Quick Recommendations

Not a lot of time to write because I’ve got homework to do but:

MUSIC
The Weakerthans : I just saw their live show last night and it was amazing!  They manage to be both depressing and optimistic at the same time, and their lyrics are just poetry.  Go see them if you can, if not, try to get some of their music!

MOVIES
”My Best Friend’s Wedding” : Classic love story, plus you can’t go wrong with Julia Roberts.

BOOKS
”My Place” by Sally Morgan : I’m reading it for my Australia World Cultures class, but it’s actually an engrossing story about an Aboriginal girl growing up in white society.

Deep Sea Diving

Shallow water in a round red pool
Splashing face streaked with tart tears,
Bury your hands into the spot where
Foam flecks flicker and the sea
Meets the shore.
Water is adaptable,
Coalescing into any shape,
Space.
What if water could feel?
It stings
Your hands after you’ve been out in the snow.
It whispers
Drip-drops from the faucet
Late at the night
My feet turn sudsy in the rain.
Waves break like hearts at high tide,
It sloshes, steams,
slurps, crashes,
and careens,
It labors
Hail bits and ice chips
Clatter like marbles
In the mouth.
Do you walk barefoot
In torrential rain?
Feel the skin of your toes squeak,
Squeaky clean.
It sounds like absolution.
But water costs money;
Reservoirs clang empty.
I used to take hot baths and pretend
The water was lava.
I used to catch raindrops on my tongue
And worry about the effects of acid rain.
Let’s kiss underwater because
Thermal lakes in Hungary
Leave sulfur stains.
Water is the universal solvent.

Uh Oh, Sore Throat

With the big swine flu scare and the normal flu making its rounds, I’m taking every precaution that I can to keep from getting sick.  When I woke up this morning with a slight sore throat, I knew the battle was really on.  Check out these four ways I’m trying to keep illness and bay, and maybe start employing these strategies daily to ward off infection before it sets in:

1) Bulk up my body on vitamins.  I don’t like taking pill vitamin, so I’m drinking a whole lot of orange juice, water with lemon, and eating lots of orange/yellow fruits and veggies. 

2) Gargling.  Either with salt and warm water or with Listerine, gargling helps to kill the germs lodged in the back of my throat.  Twice a day is the common prescription.

3) Engaging in non-stressful activities, or trying my best not to get stressed out by what’s going on around me.

4) Honestly believing that I am not sick, and that this is a minor setback, which will be gone shortly.

 

Be healthy!

I Remember…

I had my first poetry class the other day, and we had to write a poem (based on Joe Brainard’s I REMEMBER). You should try it; start with your earliest memory, just let the phrases flow without thinking about what you’re writing, and make sure to keep with the format! Here’s my version of the poem -

I remember saying that Rudolph would guide Santa’s way through the clouds. I remember I’ve seen myself say that in a home video. I remember wordless lumps in throats during kisses. I remember forgetting how to hold a pencil. I remember mailing letters back to the sender, unopened. I remember going to McDonalds with my parents every other weekend. I remember that every time we went, I thought that one day they’d die. I remember thinking a ghost lived in the walls of my grandparent’s house, and that a terrorist living in the basement. I remember my Winnie the Pooh baby blanket; I still have some shreds. I remember an old man, hand hovering above mine, energy shooting into my palm. I remember trying to see auras; I still can’t. I remember kissing a girl; it felt just like kissing a guy. I remember looking up during an eclipse. I remember looking back down before I saw anything because someone had warned me I’d go blind. I remember learning Braille incase I ever went blind. I remember getting splattered with bugs on a rollercoaster at night. I remember eating a sour cream and onion cricket. I remember nearly throwing up afterwards. I remember my mom tying white bows in my long hair. I remember seeing my grandma being fed through a tube. I remember whipped cream on my tongue feels like air. I remember the burn blisters on his fingers, the feel of his hands on my thighs. I remember that first, awkward time. I remember blood being taken in a hospital. I remember screaming for it back because it was mine.

Splash

Paint
on the hands
again
under the nails
on that burn blister
on your ring finger.

Human Being #5007894

Robotic appendages
spread sporadic
speak syllables,

alliteration
reiteration
alignment of the particles
in the base of the
spine

send sparks, like
gamma rays and
radiation
flirtation
sinking under the
skin

waiting for an error
message in the
motherboard,

virus.

Exploring Hipster Haven

If you live in New York, you’ve heard of Williamsburg, the growing trendy neighborhood that’s become the go-to place for the fashionable, fake indie kids… otherwise known: hipsters.  Never having seen it for myself, I enlisted my best friend Jo in an exploration. 

First things first, we had to figure out where exactly in Brooklyn we could find Williamsburg.  After being directed to the wrong place multiple times, we finally realized that we were over thinking the problem.  The solution was simple: two stops on the L train, following the easy-to-spot young, plaid-wearing hipster crowd. 

We emerged from the subway a little underwhelmed.  It didn’t look all that different from the Bronx, only, the buildings were smaller and there were more stores that focused on natural and organic products.  A thrift shop sat right on the corner; we browsed, but didn’t find any treasures.  We walked three blocks in one direction, saw a few artsy (and expensive) boutiques and some cool eateries (lots o Asia), and then the area became residential.  Three blocks in the other direction, and the same thing happened. 

So, we ate some food, browsed here and there, and then took the L train back into the city.  Williamsburg had one of those “we’re all really cool here” atmospheres, and I don’t think I would really fit in; I’m not “scene” enough.  But I will give it this, there were lots of cute guys, even though they were the kind that never really look at non-fashion-conscious girls like Jo and me.

Here are some pics from our adventure:

Re-Aligning of the Poles

I’m sure you’ve heard the predictions for 2012.  One theorist says that the magnetic poles of the Earth will break loose and re-align, but now North will be South and South will be North.  I haven’t done enough reading to know whether I believe this guy or not, but that’s not the point.  The point is that magnetism doesn’t only exist on the land, but also between people.

It’s that tugging sensation you feel when you see someone you’ve (probably) known in a past life, and that really strange comfort you get when you’ve just met someone but somehow you can tell them everything.  It’s the way two bodies can fit together, just so, tiny grains of sand clinging together on a foam-soaked beach.

And sometimes, when you find that magnetic someone you’re attracted to, you just can’t let them go.  You’re stuck to them; you want to be around them every single minute of every single day.  You want them inside your veins.  Trust me, I know the feeling.

But I have news!  You need to let your poles re-align, sometimes.  You need to separate, to take breaks from each other, to remember which way is South and which way is North, to remember who you are and what you love to do.  Recently the bf and I had a talk about this, how we were spending too much time together (pretty much all of our time).  When we spoke, I didn’t really see a problem with it.  After spending the last day and a half alone, however, I realize that there were so many things I wanted to get done but was putting off, like cleaning my room and writing new blog posts.  Like listening to Xavier Rudd.  Like reviewing Hungarian vocabulary.

And now that we’re re-aligned to ourselves, it’s time to come back together into position, and meet up again tonight and spend the night eating dinner, painting Warhammer models, and watching Weeds (good series.  My recommendation of the week, along with Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse.  I’ve only watched the first four episodes, but it’s pretty kicking!).  So remember, take time for yourself.  Your other half will still be there after you’ve re-aligned.

As for whether or not the world will still be here after the poles align, well, who knows.  *shrug*

Windows Live Messenger

Okay! So, I’m using Windows Live Messenger for the first time to update my blog, which seems convenient, and makes uploading pictures and things either (although I was hoping it would help me improve the layout and it doesn’t --- could that be because I’m using blogger? Would this be different if I hadn’t already set the thing to be compatible with blogger?  Maybe I’ll try that next time).

This is a test.

Windows Live Messenger is pretty convenient, and it sort of has to be, competing with AIM (not as good; I keep the old version because I hate all the new ones), and sites like Twitter and Facebook.  The world-wide web is getting immensely inter-connected and I’m not really sure how I feel about it.  Even my parents update facebook all the time! And then when I think I’ve gotten photo comments, it’s really just my family dialoguing back and forth about something underneath one of my photos :(

Anyway, test concluded! Let’s try to add a picture and post!

  Yay inserted little moving image! And it’s way easier to change up the size of it on WLM than it is on Blogger itself.  And it inserts right where you want it, too!  You can also add tables, video, and maps, really easily!

So far, I think the best software to blog with is on a MAC, but since I don’t have one, and even if I did, wouldn’t have the $100 a year you need to be a part of the program thingy, I must be grateful for what I do have: WLM. Yay.

Shrek: The Musical

So, a few weeks ago I bought tickets to see Shrek: The Musical. You're probably wondering why. I like musicals like HAIR, and Rock of Ages, relatively minimalist things. Why would I go see Shrek, which features multiple sets and people wearing animal costumes? No, I do not have a younger sibling that wanted to go. I bought the tickets for my boyfriend. My 20-year-old little kid boyfriend. I went in feet dragging (although he didn't know that). I expected the worst. We get there, and we're in row K. That's right, all the way up there. Keep walking sweetie, sorry, I couldn't afford the front row. We switch seats, because some lady's gigantic head is in my way. The switch doesn't really make it much better, because now the girl in front of me keeps shifting back and forth and taking her sweater on and off and on and off. Then the lights go dim. All in all, I really enjoyed the musical. The sets were amazing, really detailed and constantly shifting and spinning and changing. And the special effects - fire, fog, flashing lights that nearly blinded the audience! The acting was, overall, pretty good, and the singing was mostly good, even though sometimes you couldn't understand the accents that great. What made it, for me, was the humor. The musical was way funnier than I expected it to be, and there were a lot of great little spoofs thrown in there, tiny gems in the rough. The best part, though, was looking over at the boyfriend and seeing him smiling every time. For that, I would have seen the worst musical in the world.

Movie Review: "Taking Woodstock"

To say that Ang Lee's Taking Woodstock adhered completely to Elliot Tibor's memoir of the same name would be a lie. But to say that it deviated from the book, from the message of the book, would also be a lie. Lots of details were left out, as in any movie version of a book, but the most important message was there: love those around you, live your dreams, and let yourself be free. The film had a dual track, partially focusing on Elliot's distressed relationships with his parents, and partially outlining how Woodstock, the legendary hippie festival, began and played out. The movie takes focus off the musicians and the heavy crowds of Woodstock, and focuses instead on the outliers, giving you a real individual perspective, taking the macro and bringing it down into the micro. Every scene is entirely believable, and each role is played with intense attention to detail. Famous actors (Demitri Martin, Emile Hirsch) are entirely their characters, and relatively unknown actors (Jonathan Groff) present an equally convincing portrait of the '60s groove. Sometimes Taking Woodstock meanders along without any real action or drama, a style seen in Lee's other films, such as Brokeback Mountain and Lust, Caution. Moments like this, however, just add to the aesthetic beauty and peaceful, no worries attitude that Taking Woodstock is all about. In other words, beautiful, wonderful movie and I loved it. I highly recommend that you all should go see it!!!

Exercise and Imagery

Today I watched the sunrise, golden and orange, surging up from one end of the sky. I, blinded slightly by window curtains and the trees outside, glanced up every now and then, to see more and more of the darkness overtaken by reds and pinks and yellows, and the light blue hues of the impending day. As the light crept into the porous holes of the sky, I rose, and dressed silently (or possibly not as silently as I thought), and put a band-aid on my blister. Purple is a healing color. And I donned black running shoes and little white ear-plugs and listened to a band called "City and Colour" (music recommendation of the week, take note, recommended to me by my Canadian hippie friend), and then listened to something faster, and sped down gravel like a cat on the prowl. This must be just like living in paradise. An hour later I arrived back home, and I deep-breathed, and touched my fingers to my feet, and knew I was alive.

When's the last time you bought some lingerie?

You're single. You're searching, hoping, scanning every single guy you pass to see if he meets your ideal. You look at yourself in the mirror, but you're sure you still need to lose 10 more lbs. off your 120 lb. frame. You're still single a month later and you wonder what's wrong with you. But there's nothing wrong with you.

Trust me, I'm slightly chunky for my weight/height combo. But I do have a high level of self confidence about my body, which boths leads to and stems from a high respect for oneself. I always cringe when my best friend says, not joking, that she's going to end up as an old maid. Or that it doesn't matter when she wears ratty underwear and a bra that doesn't fit right, because no one is going to see them.

Self-respect has to start somewhere, because if you don't want to see yourself as a ferocious sex kitten, why would anyone else? It's not hard to develop a healthy collection of undergarments -- in fact, bras and panties have become some of my favorite items to shop for! Here are some steps and tips to help you get started:

1. Don't go for anything that feels too unnatural. If you're not the type of woman who likes lace and thongs, get something that feels less threatening -- maybe try a cute pair of boy shorts with a very low key, yet still stylish bra. (The "Pink" collection at Victoria Secret would be perfect for you). 2. If you are into lace and ribbons and push-ups and see-through corsets with matching fishnet tights, don't worry. You don't have to spend a lot of money if you hit up H & M. This quickly growing retailer is my favorite spot to buy sexy, yet reasonably priced, lingerie. And they carry every bra in sizes A through C, with certain selections offered in a D cup as well.

3. If you just can't seem to find lingerie that you think looks good, buy something anyway. Just make the leap. And try it on at home, maybe dance in front of the mirror for a while. Pretend you're a lingerie model. Remember, you want to look good for yourself. Even if no one else will see what you're wearing, you'll know, and you'll feel good about it.

4. Remember, self-respect, self-confidence, and self-love all come together in a circle, and you have to connect each part in order to feel good about yourself. Tell yourself that you're beatuiful, and intelligent, and deserving. And I promise, once you know how great you are, others will start to realize it too.

Give Me Those Thrills & Chills, Baby

Six Flags has evolved into the World Disney World for adults. Not only are there badass super hero characters to recall from chidhood, there are also plenty of action-packed thrill rides, although some parks do have more new and impressive rollercoasters than others. So when we went to Six Flags New England in Springfield, I went in grumbling. I was under the impression that Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey couldn't be beat.

And it can't. Nothing tops the thrill of sitting in the front row and shooting up and down the nearly vertical, 45-storey slopes of Kingda Ka at 128 mph, which makes it the tallest and fastest coaster int the country. Or the commanding prescence of El Torro, which was rated #2 wooden rollercoaster in the U.S., according to the Six Flags website.

But it does beat the New Jersey lines. At Great Adventure, we waited nearly three hours to ride Kingda Ka, a ride which lasts only 59 seconds, but doesn't feel nearly that long. At Six Flags New England, we waited an hour for Bizarro (the best coaster there, which I really enjoyed), which lasted a crazy 3 and a half minutes.

All in all, I guess it doesn't really matter which park you go to, because you're probably going to have a great time either way. I know I did, especially riding sickening coasters and then immediately wolfing down some fried dough and lemonade with John. And it was great to spend time there with family.

(L to R: Marvin the Martian, Dad, Me & the penguin John won for me, my brother Frankie, John standing beside me, Yosemite Sam, Mom, and Frankie's girlfriend Megan)

I Miss My City

Here I am, in a small town called Rockville, Maryland. I came here with John, to meet his family and friends and go to lots of cute mini golf places at Ocean City. Well, the cute mini golf places are already out, as the trip to Ocean City has been canceled. And we haven't really met anyone yet, either. Pretty much, we've hung out in this budding small town suburbia. And don't get me wrong -- it's pretty quaint and gorgeous. But it isn't New York City, and I miss my hustle and bustle and grime already. For instance here, the sidewalks are utterly devoid of trash. People stop driving to let you cross even if you have the don't walk sign, and they won't start up again until you're across the street. I got complimented twice in a matter of two days. Everything is nestled in a five block radius and once you get past that, there's nothing to do. There is literally zero crime here. I have not seen one person who looks remotely homeless, and I doubt they exist. Rent for a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment is only $2,300. ... In my angry, pricey city... that'll get you a studio the size of John's bedroom closet, with walls you can hear every argument or sexcapade the neighbors have. And yet I'd still take that, with its glorious skyscrapers and humid, dirty (but way cheaper!) subway and multitude of different languages you can hear on the street, over this. Why? Beats me, but once you know New York, it's hard to leave.

Rockin' Robin, Tweet Tweet....

For the longest time, I've held out on my opinion that Twitter is the most useless thing ever. Who cares what you (or anyone else) does during their day? Shouldn't some privacy remain sacred? But during the summer, my best friend Jo has been using Twitter for other reasons - mostly to look up information about different Broadway plays and to see if there are any good events going on around town that people she "follows" (or is there no "w"?) have tweeted (is that proper verb conjugation) about. So, today I caved and signed up for Twitter. If you've already signed up for a world where life becomes nothing more than a short, badly written blurb, find me as "hungupon". We might as well all go down together. (Disclaimer: I might not last on Twitter, but at least I'm giving new things a go!)

Letting Go

Right now, John is in the process of moving out of his dorm in Manhattan to an apartment in the Bronx, just a few blocks away from where I live, actually. I can't imagine trying to move all of my stuff out of my room and into somewhere new. But see, that's the problem. Because when you're moving, you have to throw stuff out. You have to let go of all those old love letters (which, for years, I re-read and re-read, just to open up the metaphorical wounds anew); sometimes, you have to toss the memories to consolidate and make room for the new. It took me a long time to realize this and, now, as I help John pack and as he so easily talks about leaving things behind, I'm realizing it all over again. I am far too attached to my belongings -- not in a materialistic way, but in a sentimental way. And I am way too attached to former loves and friends -- although I can't say I have very many left of the latter. Just a few days ago, I had to let go a really close friend, who I've known for nearly four or five years. It was hard, but I'm getting along alright. As for those love letters, I now have Warhammer* miniature models to take their place. (-_-) Well, at least it's something, and at least it makes me smile rather than frown about the past. Try it with me. Let go of the things that don't matter anymore. Let go of any negative feelings about those around you, and especially about yourself. Let go of your ego and your physical manifestation, and become a swirling mass of feelings and potential, and let yourself be guided home. ------ *P.S. - for anyone who doesn't know what Warhammer is, you can read my article about it and one of its players here. Or, for the simple explanation - its a tabletop war game where you battle another player using tiny models you've built and painted yourself. And yes, John does have me building a Wood Elf army. (Which, yeah, yeah, I'll let go of the pretense and admit it -- I'm really excited about it!)

No More Complaining

If you know me, you know that I hate when my hair starts getting longer (and I complain about it... a lot)! Then I end up getting it cut short, but I always complain about it too. Well, this time, I picked a slightly different style (short in the back, longer in the front on the left side in a sort of side bang) and made an executive decision - I would not complain. And since I've decided that, I feel way better about my haircut than I have in years. So now, my new goal is to reduce complaint and expectation, and just be satisfied with what I've got. (Pictures of the haircut will be on my facebook, and for info on it, I got it done at Astor Hair on Astor Place and Broadway, by an older woman named Martha. Usually I get it cut by Fran, who knows how to chop it up for me just right, but she's away on pregnancy leave right now). If you need a haircut, check it out.

A Quickie

Don't you just love a short litle quickie before you head out for the day? Well, here goes: Music recommendation of today: "Follow" by Richie Havens. It was actually recommended to me last semester by this somewhat aging beatnik that I interviewed named Evan. He reads at the poetry readings in Barnes and Noble once a month (which I have been skipping out on because I haven't written any worthwhile poetry; I just can't get over this poetry block). So now I'm recommending it to you. When you listen, think of transcendental meditation, and the transfer of energy from one human being to another, tiny glittering strings of emotion and common interest and blood, all twinkling in the spaces between us. Umbilical cords that we have to learn to reconnect, before it's too late for the planet, and all of us on it. Joining together is our only answer; we must follow the call of our connections, our humanity, our love.

One By One

I can't read mystery novels. Even though I try, I always feel like they fall short of "And Then There Were None," by Agatha Christie, which (in my mind at least) is the most superbly written, intriguing, complex mystery novel ever. Get this: ten strangers get brought to an island. One by one they start dying, and pretty soon they realize - one of them must be the killer. Ever since reading "And Then There Were None," I've been looking for a mystery that would compare. I finally found it, but it wasn't in a book. It was a television mini series: "Harper's Island". I had been too busy (doing absolutely nothing) to catch "Harper's Island" when it aired on CBS over the past few months, I decided to watch the entire series (13 episodes) instantly on Netflix. You know a show is good when every minute you're not watching, you're trying to piece together clues in your mind. The series, which starts of with a couple (Christopher Gorham and Katie Cassidy) who decide to get married on an island with a bloody history, takes you on a crazy race beginning the first night the guests arrive on the island.

Each episode is packed with thrills and twists that will leave you shocked and, if you're like me, creeped out for the rest of the night. The cast all performs convincingly, and before you know, you'll be crying at one of the more serious death scenes. (At least, I was!)

Sometimes the killings and guests' actions seem a little unrealistic, but hey, would a horror flick really be a horror flick if you didn't have to yell at your tv, "Idiot! Don't go in the dark alone without a weapon?!" So now, I recommend this television series to you! And, if you liked this post, please go rate it on this site, which has a similar version!!!

What's Up With This Rain?

Once again this summer, our humid and sunny New York city has transformed into one big rainy, gloomy puddle that keeps my socks soaked all day and leaves me with soggy, peeling feet. But this time around, I refuse to let the rain keep me down. And I think an important way to do that is to stay social and share. So that's what I'm going to do. Each week, I'll post a recommendation - music, movies, cool website, place to go, maybe even more than one, and probably mostly free. And maybe we can join up and experience these places and events together despite the rain. But this deal requires your help too -- I need your feedback on what I post, and maybe even some suggestions of your own!! Can I count on you, readers?

How I Saved My Summer

I went through a number of title ideas of this post, including but not limited to: How Gemstones Saved My Summer, How Astrology Saved My Summer, How Searching For Apartments For My Busy Boyfriend Saved My Summer. Then I realized that nothing saved my summer but me, and that the power to turn things around was always there, waiting to be realized. Let me explain. May - school ended, things went down, summer started off raining. And kept raining. And I got depressed and unwilling to do anything. June & July - the heat and sun finally picked up, and then all I wanted to do was be outside all day every day, and when I was not outside, I wanted to be inside cuddling and painting Warhammer models with my boyfriend (John). And in the past few weeks, I started to realize that I have not done one single thing worth doing for myself this summer. I didn't study for the LSAT, I let my latest novel mold over on my hard-drive, I abandoned my blog with its faithful five followers, and I stopped reviewing my Hungarian material. I pretty much ate, slept, hung out with friends, and cuddled. And it was fun, but unproductive. And I need to be productive. So I went out and bought a blue apatite stone, which provides creative energies, and I read my weekly horoscope on freewillastrology.com, which advised me to pray to the gods of discipline and determination, and I looked up apartments for my boyfriend so that he might have a place to live after August 8, and I realized I had to start doing things for myself again. And so, that's what I'm doing. Hello, few faithful readers. I have returned, once again. I'll keep you updated on how I get my life back on track.

News Brief

For my last post of the week, I just want to provide you with some interesting pieces of news. Let me know what you think of them, and we can discuss: 1. The New York Times has an informative story on North Korea's defiant missile launch, going against the U.S., China, and various UN resolutions. 2. Metallica and Run-DMC will soon take spots in the Rock Hall of Fame, according to a story at Online Athens. I never realized there were rappers in the Rock Hall of Fame... 3. And for a little culture flavor -- here's some recent news from Hungary about their housing market. I think I should head over there and bolster their sales!

Short Hair Stories

Alright, so I was reading this article about why women get short haircuts. As someone who has tried a lot of different hairstyles -- from as long as my lower back to mohawks to chopped really close to my head -- I found it slightly amusing, slightly annoying and altogether detrimental to women with short hair. Women cut their hair short for five reasons, according to this writer for The Frisky. Number one on the list is that they move to France. I'm not really up on French culture, but as far as I know, it's Eastern Europe that's known for it's women with short hair. When I was in Hungary, I almost considered growing my hair long again because so many people had styles that looked like mine. In fact, my older female cousin there had just about the same exact look - cut, color, roots and all. The other reasons for short hair: becoming a lesbian, teenage angst, building character, and boy problems. I get that it was probably (sort of) satire, but I think it just tries to box us and our reasons into certain stereotypes. When I cut my hair, it wasn't for any of those reasons -- it was just that I wanted to try something new and exciting. And that short hair is way easier to take care of -- and much more fun! Think of the different, crazy styles you can do. (Although, mine's getting too long for all of that right now). I think the article almost discourages women to cut their hair short, but I encourage you to protest! Cut your hair! Break down stereotypical barriers! Show them that you can make short hair look sexy and still feminine! (Alright, so maybe I've got a little bit of leftover teenage angst...)

Photo Post

I don't like over-used sayings that have lost all meaning, so whenever people say that pictures are worth a thousand words, I staunchly defend my position that nothing is worth more than a thousand, or even a hundred, well-crafted and well-thought-about words. But, at the end of the day, everyone likes a good picture or two, so here are a couple that capture the mood of the week. Which is your favorite? First things first, I'm ready and aching for summer to be here again! I took this picture last year at Coney Island -- which, I regret to announce to those who haven't heard -- is going to get commercialized and more crowded than it already is. Although, for some good news, some of the attractions (and the Cyclone) will re-open this summer despite plans to turn this run-down beautiful relic into a tourist trap. Either way, just think about it -- wouldn't you love to feel the sand squish through your toes as you stand in that magical spot where the ocean fleetingly meets the shore? What could be more comforting and filling than delicious vanilla and butter pecan ice cream and a thick wedge of cheesecake crammed into huge dish and topped with sweet whipped cream and a juicy strawberry? Probably nothing. And you'll definitely be full after eating one of this gigantic ice cream dishes from Serendipity, on 60th street, a block or two after Lexington. Although the ice cream shop's a little bit pricey (around $10 - $15 for this type of sundae) and the wait can get as long as two hours, it's a good bang for your buck if you have a big of a sweet tooth as I do. (Let's hope not, because you don't want as many cavities as I've got, either). Despite what you may think, I didn't put this pic up here out of vanity or a desire to introduce you to my newest boyfriend (of about one month now, who I've known for about four months). Well, okay, maybe I did... But I also wanted to demonstrate that this week is one where it just feels right to be rockin' a pair of ripped jeans. John's jeans, from American Eagle, have lasted him over five years of intense teenage-boy behavior. (Now he's 20, but I can't imagine he acts very differently). He's got two huge rips on both knees and one significant rip on the right pocket. My jeans, which I can't remember where I got because I'm pretty sure I stole them from my mom, back when I was as skinny as she was -- have rips along the back (don't worry; you can't see my butt!) and on the right knee, as well as a little bit lower down the left leg. So, word of comfort, even if you put on some weight like I did, don't despair. Just feel good about yourself enough to turn those ripped jeans into a new and improved style!

Relaxation Tips

The monthly Barnes and Noble poetry reading is coming up again this Friday and, as always, I'm planning on reading a couple of poems. I always get pretty nervous right before I go on, and then come down a little bit once I'm up there reading. It's not like it's a big crowd, or anything, but having to strip my soul bare through crafted words always makes my hands shake a little bit. Don't get me wrong -- I don't really care if they think I'm terrible. But I'm also hoping they actually like my poetry and are not just clapping to try and be nice. So then, why do I get nervous? I think it's pretty typical, though, for people to get nervous before speaking in front of a group, or even when preparing to meet someone for the first time. I've been wracking my brain for some good ways to get over this little fear before Friday. And I wanted to share with you the tips that I've concocted: 1. The easiest thing to do is practice! Make sure you read over your speech, poems, or questions out loud as much as you can beforehand. And if it's a conversation you're nervous about, practice with a friend. I find that reading my poems to my mom before going to the reading helps me feel more relaxed when I'm actually up there, because I know I've done this before, and thus can do it again. 2. Another simple way is to drink some chamomile tea or light a candle with a chamomile or eucalyptus scent. Both of these smells awaken the 5th chakra of the throat, which helps with clear communication and expression. A dab of a lavender or frankincense scent will encourage the 7th chakra (representing the crown of the head) to relax and prepare you. 3. You can achieve this same goal, not with scents, but with colors. Or combine candles and colors for an even powerful effect. The Throat chakra corresponds with the color blue, especially turquoise. (You can usually see me in a lot of turquoise). The Crown chakra responds to purples, but white or gold can also be a good choice. The orange Sacral chakra is sometimes said to help with relation to people, so you might want to don a pair of orange socks or underwear if you're doing primarily blues and purples. 4. Get a friend or boyfriend to give you a massage beforehand to help you relax. Just don't get so relaxed that you fall asleep up there! 5. Get to know the people that you're going to be speaking or reading in front of. I find that I'm less nervous when Barnes and Noble is filled primarily with poets I've met or heard read, as opposed to when a bunch of new people come to experience the event. This is obviously hard if you're meeting someone for the first time, but just think -- after that first interaction, the hardest part is over! 6. Most importantly -- believe in yourself. If you believe in your own strengths, talents and abilities, everything is possible. Once you're sure of yourself, others will be too. Good luck, and wish me luck!

Model

You pop out pieces -- an arm, a leg, a jaw stronger than any mammal. Piece them together connecting joints and sinews with translucent marrow. I marvel at how small it is in your rough tumble hands, nails chewed to skin. Your leather watch counts digital seconds while the hands tick away our days. All we do now is sleep, and snuggle under covers and make passes at each other. You build your skeleton dreams; I wake at dawn just to be alone.

My Kind of Journalism

There are so many different types of journalism these days - hard news, print writing, features, online writing, blogging... Sometimes it seems daunting. Sometimes it seems like I want to dabble in every medium. Sometimes I think that I don't want to do any of these things, and that I just want to write a novel - a fantasy novel, preferably, one that probably won't make me any money at all, or fame either. But since I do want to stick with journalism, I think I'm looking for a journalism that combines novel-writing with reporting, researching facts that I can piece together like a complex puzzles, mixing them up with quotes, weaving the entire thing into a story with a plot and diverse characters, one with more than a 2,000 word limit to tell. I want to write journalistic novels, like my Journalism of Empathy professor Ted Conover. Literary journalism seems like an extended, yet exciting, way to tell a story. And after reading "Coyotes" by Conover, and a couple of other books of the same genre (like "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman), I've decided that this is the type of writing I'd like to do in my future. I want to travel somewhere yet un-written about, find some topic unexplored, and delve into a world where I can shine light on a person, place, or idea. The only problem is finding that idea.... Any suggestions?

Heart Throbs & Tooth Aches

1. First news point: Heart Throb Media I'm currently writing movie news for Heart Throb Media, a website directed (mostly) at teenagers but with content for all ages (at least under my movie section, anyway). It's not just me posting (let me not say what I think about the other guy who posts stuff), but I write maybe five or six articles a week, depending on what else I'm up to. In fact, I'd really suggest going there right now, because I just recently posted a blurb about the new "Taking Woodstock" trailer -- a film directed by Ang Lee ("Lust, Caution" and "Brokeback Mountain" = amazing) with a superstar cast including my all time heart throb: Emile Hirsch (and my second favorite heart throb: Johnathan Groff!!!! He played in "Hair" in Central Park last summer, and lots of people were bummed he wasn't going to resume his role when "Hair" hit Broadway). 2. Second news point:Wisdom Teeth I recently got my wisdom teeth removed (well, during spring break) and FINALLY the swelling is almost all the way down. Although, my jaw (especially the right side) still hurts when I open my mouth too wide. If you have impacted wisdom teeth, I highly recommend getting them removed ASAP. If I had done this three years ago when my dentist first told me to, I probably wouldn't still look sort of like a chipmunk right now. Also, if you're going to get your wisdom teeth pulled -- I recommend lots of ice within the first 24 hours, and salt and water help after a week or so. Also, I tried some color healing when I had mine done, which helped a little, but I think the pain was cutting through my focus. If you want to color heal, you need to focus an ice-blue color on the swelling, and a purple color on the wounds for healing. Thats all for right now! Remember! Go to the website! Watch the "Taking Woodstock" trailer! Let me know what you think!

Time Management Strategy

Time for my apologies, again. I'm sorry I haven't been writing. I'm sorry I fell off the face of the Earth. But I hope that my absence hasn't driven away all of my readers. So, to make it up to those of you who've hung on, I've developed a plan! I'm taking some tips from my friend and teacher Betty, who writes a pretty kick-ass blog of her own. What does she have that I don't? Well, aside from a cooler layout and way more readers -- she updates quite frequently, and has just developed a strategy for updating three times a week. Well, I don't think I can be that structured, but I am going to develop a goal. By the end of each week, I want to have posted at least four new posts, and at least one of them has to be longer than a tiny info-blurb. I'm not sure when I'm going to squeeze these posts into a schedule that involves five classes, way too many hours of commuting, going places with a boyfriend, and (soon) writing about movies for a new website. Then again, I guess it would make sense to draw inspiration from all of those different things I'm busy with, right? So if I drank, I'd propose a toast to my new challenge. Since I don't drink, we'll just clink glasses of green tea or something.

Block

I wanted to start work on a novel this morning, but I spent an entire hour and a half just staring at a blank page, unable to slip anything into that white space. Concentration isn't at a high right now. But what would I rather be doing instead? I want to dance around the hallways. I want to sing for freedom and for peace. I want to solve the world's biggest mystery. I just want something more epic that I've got right now, although I'm not sure what that is. Ever feel it? That nagging sensation at the tip of your brain, that makes you jiggle your leg in antsy impatience, and you aren't really sure why? With the taste of Early Grey tea lingering on my tongue, that's what I've got right now. And I wish I could write. Oh; I wish I could write.

Hungry for Hungary

It's almost been a month!! I can't figure out why I'm unable to stay on top of school this month, but I plan to start organizing my time better over the weekends. Who thought that finding a boyfriend (I know, I finally committed) would make time management this much harder? Not me, that's for sure. Although, finding a boyfriend was never part of the plan for this semester. But, that's life, always changing things up on you. And I admit, I love it. But as much as I love change, there are things I miss. Lately, I've really been missing Hungary - the fresh air, the billowing farmland, the city streets and colorful Budapest buildings. I miss ice cream with real,rich flavor. I miss stuttering in a language I'm scared I will never master. I even miss the small town - Szombathely (some-but-hey) - in which I stayed, where dogs barked whenever you walked down the street and there was absolutely nothing to do but walk around, breathe in the air and hang out with my 32-year-old cousin. Szombathely, located right near the Hungarian-Austrian boarder, was founded in 45 AD, making it the oldest city in Hungary. Originally, it acted as the capital of the Panonnia Superior province of the Roman Empire. It used to be a major center of Western Hungary, but no longer. The 1920 Treaty of Tianon, signed after WW2, took a great deal of land away from Hungary and dealt it out among neighboring countries. The population of Hungary decreased from 20.8 million to 7 million. Land area dropped by 72 percent. Many lands settled by Hungarians were lost, and these ethnic Hungarian haven't always been treated so well in the countries that gained possession of their land. I almost understand how they feel - that deep, inexplicable longing for a certain place you call "home". Although I'm only half Hungarian and I've never lived in Hungary, I always used to feel that aching in my soul, that longing for the place I'd never been. But now that I've been there, this tiny landlocked country calls to me all the more loudly. I miss the friendly people. I miss my family. I miss the Balaton, the largest lake in Central Europe and known as "Hungary's Ocean". I even miss the thermal baths that leave you stained and stinking for the rest of the day. And, being kind of hungry right now, I miss really miss eating langos - a fluffy, friend dough with garlic and possibly cheese and sour cream spread across the top. My stomach grumbles just thinking about it. My soul grumbles with desire to return to the country to which I belong, at least for part of my life. I can't wait until life changes again, and I go back home.

(Szombathely)

Thank God It's... Thursday??

You know how Monday is always the worst day of the week, and how Friday is always pretty decent because at least you know the weekend is coming? Well, today I'm going to share a little secret that makes me look forward to Thursdays each and ever week: Free Will Astrology! Every week writer and astrologist Rob Brezsney, in his nationally syndicated column, derives the future based on the 12 Zodiac signs. But these aren't just any old predictions -- they're quirky, and not always so straight forward. And, it's up to you to make them happen, because they're always suggests of things you should, or can, do. For example, my horoscope (Pisces) told me to lower the incarceration rate inside of myself. Sound confusing? Just check out the website, and I guarantee you'll be hooked. Happy Thursday!

Poem

Just wanted to share a poem that I am thinking of reading as one of my three poems at Barnes and Noble Friday night. Opinions and comments and suggestions are always more than welcome!! Prognosis and Prescription I can't clear my head; the thoughts spiral and pile atop themselves each one more bloated than the next, like parasites leeching each drop of life from the host organism, (I contemplate things) like a crow wheeling in the dusty sky, waiting to swoop in for the pickings. I imagine black feathers and bloody meat -- scrawny chicken legs and deer haunches [oh, the way they stand in the road, with their eyes transfixed and their nerves tensed taut tingling] Trembling as our words do the waltz [I think: one, two, three, four, turn slightly, box, one...] and our bodies sing too high-pitched to hear, (but can't dolphins listen to the radio shows of the sea vibrating on a roiling, crashing, foaming frequency akin to that of our heartbeats?) Our nerve endings screech like dying cats, or trains coming into stations on a curve, as though we had melted off our skin like candle wax and weaved the axons of our ganglia into dreadlocks. And my mind spatters its sky with stars (which really burnt-out a long time ago) and I can't control this barrage of thoughts any more than I can stop the spasms in my legs or the numbness creeping into my fingernails. [Here's a factoid - did you know that when the pleasure is too great people start to beg for pain, even if they have to create it themselves?] I think of class schedules and shopping malls. Of burials, and anonymous graves with rotting wood tombstones. Of bluegreen bacteria. Of cutlery. I force myself to concentrate on the sound of my own breath wheezing past tonsils [that had been removed a long time ago.] If I stop thinking, I run risks. I might black out pass out drop out and fail to wake up... [Is death when the heart stops pumping blood, or is death the cessation of consciousness?] ---Hopefully tomorrow will bring a better update!! Peace & Love

Your Opinions

While browsing through the Gadgets for this blog, I came across a poll feature, and decided that having a weekly poll might be a cool thing to do. I've added a poll to the top of this page, right above the posts (I'm sure you see it), so please feel free to answer it! This week, I decided a good question would be some self-analysis - what does my blog need? I think it needs a lot of things, like more posts, more interesting posts, more pictures (taken by me), and more friends!! In light of that last bit, it'd be helpful if you could subscribe to this blog if you read it or, if not, you could tell some people about it so that they could read it. In fact, one of those trackers that lets you know how many people have visited could be a useful tool. Time to go back to searching through Gadgets!! --- Update: I figured out the counter tracker, thanks to a link on the bottom of Imagining Mary, and now there's a cute little graphic tracker at the very bottom of this page. (Although I'm afraid that all of the hits are my own!!)

Highlights

I know, I know. It seems as though I'm always taking long vacations from this blog, lately. But with homework lurking around every corner and a million other things to do, I just can't seem to find the time to write! I decided to start exercising again, although it seems like I don't really have much time for that, either. The addition of a guy to my life makes everything that was already hectic even more difficult to deal with, although I guess I'd prefer him in my life than out of it. Anyway, rant over. Just wanted to offer up some explanation. Today, I'd just like to mention a few things before I go translate some Hungarian: 1. Heroes: Season 4 premieres tonight at 9pm on NBC! 2. It's Groundhog Day today -- will Phil the groundhog see his shadow? I hope not, because that would mean an early spring! (Although, how much stock should we put in whether an animal sees its shadow or not?) 3. Friday, February 6th, there is a poetry reading at 7:30 pm at the Barnes and Nobles on Sixth Avenue and Eighth Street (I hope I remembered my AP Style for that address!) -- feel free to drop by and read some of your own work, or just listen in to other people doing their thing! 4. With the approach of Valentine's Day, everyone (including me) is wondering what to get others for the holiday -- whether its for your significant other, your parents, your kids, or just your best friend. I'm trying to think of some nontraditional gifts this year, so any ideas would be helpful. When I think of some, I'll write up a post about it. And don't worry about being single on Valentine's Day -- I always liked being single better because it took away all of the pressure to get the right thing for your boyfriend or girlfriend. Instead, find someone else to give candy or a thoughtful card to; I bet they'll appreciate it! And who knows, maybe you'll be surprised and get a Valentine too!

Short Story

Here's a short story I wrote for creative writing (sorry, it's in early stages and doesn't really have to do with anything, but thought I'd share it since I don't really have time to post something with more substance, or else I'll miss the train and be late for class -- which I already feel I'm starting to fall behind on). Pretend Flight "I would remember that morning as though it was the backdrop for a movie scene – fuzzy, and kind of beautiful, but without specifics. The focus was on the actors, the plot, the dialogue. Only the one obsessive compulsive kid with a fetish for detail (whose mother had named him Simon, after the character in Alvin and the Chipmunks) would notice the activity in the background, like the sunlight shimmering in rainbows on the oil that had leaked out onto the street in the spot where the car just pulled away. And Simon would push his glasses up on his nose - as if his eyeballs had to be touching the lenses in order for him to really see – and he would squint one eye shut and peer intently at the scene. So there we were, John and I, two main characters stuck in our roles: he wore an orange bandana around his head and dressed like he’d time-traveled from the ‘80s; I stood barefoot in a bathrobe, with water dripping from my long hair onto the heart-shaped leaves that littered the sidewalk. “I’m standing out here for you because I love you. My toes are numb and I’m going to get a head cold from the wind. Imagine what the neighbors are going to say. But I love you!” My voice hit a note of desperation. Pause for dramatic effect. Breathe deep. “Don’t go; I am afraid of forgetting.” There, I said it out loud. But John had already squealed off in our Dodge Viper, which was purple with black racing stripes, and had been our first purchase together. There was some truth to my scripted soliloquy – I was afraid of forgetting the simple things, like the sound of my father’s voice or the way my brother used to pull the blanket over my head in the mornings. Or the good luck charm I’d hung from the Viper’s rear view mirror that I’d gotten from my best friend, who moved to Peru and never called again. I was afraid of forgetting the simple things, like who I really was. The tears came, then. Later, I would recount the story with heartache. I would remember the way my eyes burned in the chill autumn wind, the shivers that crawled up my spinal cord and straight into my wisdom teeth. Only the onlooker, Simon, would observe the squirrel, standing in a bare branch directly above my weeping, wallowing, wasting self. The squirrel flattened its tail against its back, spiking up into the air. Its tiny eyes looked up at the sky and it made a sound - halfway between a choke and a cry - that was supposed to be a bird-call. It looked up expectantly, and then clicked its teeth together twice in impatience. It tried again, and again; its birdsong shrieked in symphony with my sniffles. “Oh little squirrel,” Simon said in his squeaky voice, almost chanting, almost praying, “You are not a bird. The birds do not try half as hard as you do.” With the sun falling in stripes across his pug-nosed face as he peeped out of his bedroom window, Simon, too, pretended to be a squirrel. He pretended to be a squirrel pretending to be a bird, in the same way that I pretended to be a wife pretending to be in love. I cried, not for loss of John, but for loss of my own freedom. I cried, a little, out of relief that for the two weeks John would be away, I could retire to my dressing room to finally rest and memorize the lines to the rest of my life, because I was afraid of slipping out of the role just as much as I was afraid of losing myself in it. And only Simon, my son, hiding behind that bedroom window, would count the mistakes in the movie of our lives: my hands did not shake, my tears reflected rainbows like spilled oil on the street, and my sobs sounded more like squirrel shrieks."

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Today is the first day of a new semester. Goals? 4.0 GPA, not to fall behind on reading, try to apply for a summer internship, figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, finish writing movie script with Adam, write another novel (but a better one this time), make time to see friends but not get wrapped up in social obligations. Wish me luck, and good luck to anyone else beginning classes today or sometime soon!! If you believe you can do something, then it is in your power to do it. "...And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong, but to feel strong..." -Into the Wild Edit: And, not five minutes after my optimistic entry, do I hear that the 5 trains are experiencing signal problems and there will be delays. There goes my optimism, as I now rush to get all my books together and catch an earlier train, and hopefully still make it to class on time.

Last One Today, I promise!

I just wanted to share a really short poem I wrote recently: Still Life I wanted to live in a neighborhood of creativity an artistic commune of chaotic activity. But by the time I cold finally afford exorbitant rent prices, they'd already moved somewhere else.

Color Healing

I know, I know, I said I'd do more posts about colors and I haven't gotten around to it, yet. That's because I've been sidetracked by reading all 704 pages of Hippie Dictionary by John Bassett McCleary. Also, there's so much to say about color that I wasn't really sure where to start. But I think I'll start with an example. Last May, 9 months ago, I got a spur-of-the-moment industrial piercing in my left ear. And all of the horror stories I'd heard about healing all came true. Daily, it leaked pus and blood, and at the slightest touch I felt like punching someone in the face. And I'm normally a really peaceful person, so you can imagine the pain. About 8 months later, it was still really inflamed, and I'd developed this swelled-out bumps at the back and front of the bottom hole. So I decided to apply some color-healing. Every day, I focused on my inflamed ear and closed my eyes and imagined my ear being surrounded by a pulsing flood of blue-purple energy. Purple and violet colors have the most healing properties, especially since it is a purifying color. Blue-purple (or Ice Blue, but I always feel better when some purple is involved) is the preferred color for getting rid of inflammation and swelling, as well as other skin and skeletal problems. And now, the bumps on my ear has disappeared, and it looks better than it has yet. Of course, it could have just been the natural course of healing, but I believe that colored energy was beneficial, because it healed relatively quickly once I started color therapy. Yesterday I got a cut on my foot, and I immediately went to my medicine cabinet, grabbed the box of band-aids, and put a purple band-aid over the cut. How To Heal With Color by Ted Andrews (which I've recommended before) has a really useful list of ailments and colors that work best when trying to heal them. When in doubt, I'd suggest a purple or white light. Green is also a good healing color, but I'm always a little paranoid about it because green is also the color of growth, and so shouldn't be used on any infection or ailment that could spread. So be careful if you're going to use green! In fact, I'd recommend buying the book for a more in-depth look. Here's a few key items from Andrews' list: Abdominal Cramps - Yellow (corresponding with the yellow color of Manipura, the Solar Plexus chakra) Growths - Violet, Blue-Purple (NOT GREEN!) Infection - Violet Inflammation - Blue, Blue-Purple Skin Problems - Lemon, Blue-Violet

It's the Age of Aquarius (All Over Again)

I admit it. It's probably a clinical obsession at this point. But if you've seen it, then you're probably at least a little bit obsessed too -- so I'm not too worried about myself!! It is HAIR: An American Tribal Love Rock Musical, begun in 1964 by partners James Rado and Gerome Ragni and later appearing off-Broadway, on Broadway, and in various other threatres all around the world. And now, with previews beginning on March 6 and an opening day set for March 31, directed by Dianne Paulus (who also directed the musical when it premiered in Central Park last summer), HAIR is coming back to Broadway. And, although I was disappointed when I heard that Jonathan Groff wold not be reprising his role as Claude, I am excited at the prospective cast thus far, including Gavin Creel as Claude, Bryce Ryness resuming his role as Woof, Darius Nichols resuming his role as Hud, and Kacie Shiek resuming her role as Jeanie. Let me tell you, I've listened to at least 4 different cast recordings of HAIR, and these four people are still some of the best I've heard yet! (And on a slightly differnt note, Bryce Ryness has a great band called RYNESS, which I recently saw in concert at Sullivan Hall. Check out the band's myspace here.) The musical presents a strong anti-war statement, at a time when I think we need one almost more than ever. And, based on the success over the summer, I dare say that HAIR on Broadway will be a huge success, more so than ever before. Although HAIR always garnered positive reviews, it was also violently targeted and oftentimes attacked for its (at the time) taboo subject matter. For a good insider's look at some of these stories,check out Good HAIR Days by Jonathan Johnson, who performed in numerous productions of HAIR, primarily as the in-love-with-Mick-Jagger-but-not-homosexual Woof. Although the play lacks a linear storyline, all of the chaotic bits seem tied together by Galt MacDermot's beautiful feel-good soundtrack.

Celebrating the New Year IN the New Year

I was asked to go to Times Square on New Year's Eve. I can picture it now -- a little cartoon version of myself with spiking blonde hair shoved under a hat that looks like Hello Kitty's face, unable to move because I've stuffed myself in ten sweaters, bouncing up and down because I'm freezing and I need to pee but if I move I won't ever get back to the spot I'm at now, and really, utterly miserable. Of course, there is the romantic flip-side of celebrating New Year's with the person I care about, who would have also been there with me. I could have gotten a New Year's Eve kiss under an exploding, ball-dropping, wind-surging, star-spangled sky. But I didn't. I just stayed home with my family, watched a movie, and played some Rockband. And maybe it wasn't mind-blowing and exciting, but I was content. And tomorrow, on January 5th, I'm throwing a New Year party at my house with my friend, and we've invited a decent number of guests. It's time to celebrate the New Year in the New Year! After all, shouldn't we spend every day of the year celebrating new beginnings and possibilities? I think so. And anyway, I've had bad luck with New Year's Eve kisses in the past. Time to start a new trend for a new year -- no kiss on New Year's Eve, but plenty of kisses throughout the rest of the year. And not only kisses, but also plenty of celebrations, new revelations, and chance-taking. Time to start really living again, instead of just managing to survive.

World Resolution

After a period of absence (I know, I know, you could barely stand it while I was away), I have returned to my customary white screen, white box, verdana small font typeface mouth. And I have returned as somewhat changed, somewhat the same. 2008, like everything in life, was a process - no start, no finish, just an endless muddle through the middle, from the shallows to the deep. A process begun at birth, to continue until after even death. The process is external - the situations we face each day, the circumstances we live through, the friends we make and the ones we lose. The choices we make. The morals we follow. The lies we tell. But the process is internal, also. It is a path stemming out from the tiniest of cells, slip-sliding through the bloodstream, manifesting in the squishy folds of the brain pan. The internal process is your consciousness, and its constant expansion. Today I finished reading Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out by Timothy Leary. Surprisingly, as anti-chemical as I am, I agreed with a lot of the things he said in there. I expanded my consciousness enough to understand his point of view, and even acknowledge some truth to his words. Although Leary preached a mass movement towards LSD, it wasn't about a pleasure-trip, so much as a religious, sensory, exploratory experience. Through LSD, Leary believed people could touch God, the God within themselves, the God that we all are. Each person is God, a manifestation of God, an infinitesimally small piece of the perfection pie. LSD was about breaking reality. LSD was a sacrament. But the key point, the reason I could agree with all of that despite my disapproval of drugs, was that the sacrament did not have to be LSD. The sacrament could be the Catholic host, the dervish dance, your own "breathing, fasting, flagellation, dancing, solitude, diet," according to Leary. "There are hundreds of ways of turning on. But at the present time, man is so sick that there are very few people who can use these ancient methods, so that today is it safe to say that drugs are the specific, and almost the only, way that the American is ever going to have a religious experience." We've past the Hippies. Past the counterculture. Sure, pockets of it still exist. There are still people like me who just want peace and freedom and happiness and love. But I think we're past the point where drug = sacrament, because I think that drugs, like laughing and dancing, became too trendy, too commercialized, in a sense. Religious power diluted. But we have to do something. So let's go out, and find our own sacraments. Anything that can change your conscious, expand your mind's capacity. Meditation, mental, mathematic, marvelous processes. Pay attention to the molecules. Pay attention to the motions of everything. Pay attention to the movements you can feel, the tones that resonate within your organs even if you can't see them. Pay attention to the colors. Become aware. Here's the New Year's resolution for the whole world: Find your sacrament. Turn yourself on. And through this process, we continually grow, and we continually help others to grow. Through this process, we strengthen the shimmering strands of connection between us. Through this process, we unite our tiny fragments of God into a greater whole. Dig it.