the kind of chick who goes down chutes too narrow...

GROM: my summer obsession

2007-08-22T00:01:00.000-04:00

if i had the choice, i'd always choose savory over sweet. but when i noticed the signs go up in late spring that an "authentic" italian gelato shop was opening in my hood, i shoved skepticism aside and waiting anxiously for opening day. well, three months later...an obsession has emerged. and i'm not the only one flocking to Grom for weekly gelato fixes. fawning reviews from nymag and and nytimes declaring it the Best Gelato in NYC helped spawn lines that crawl down broadway--sometimes stretching nearly two blocks down broadway. for those foolish to think the wait is not worth it, then i give you exhibit A: i've sent nearly a dozen friends (including some hard core foodies) over to Grom and all of them would call me within moments of their first taste, proclaiming the gelato's orgasm-inducing frenzy.

the secret to Grom is it's operating model: all of the gelato is produced centrally in Turin, Italy, ensuring only the highest quality product (they source ingredients from only specific regions and run an organic farm that produces all the fruit for their incredibly fresh sorbets) and gives the taster a legitimate, authentic experience. the menu features italian flavors that i can barely pronounce, but one taste usually forces an involuntary verbal reaction in the form of a "holy shit!" and any stress from the day is immediately wiped away. the hazelnut is ridiculously rich and creamy but my current go-to combo is the lighter yogurt gelato paired with a melon or strawberry sorbet. there are no words...

Harry Potter, all grown up

2007-07-23T22:33:00.000-04:00

this reveals nothing, except to say that i am going to miss harry potter. it's not often that you feel part of an international obsession, an international reading binge that took place moments after the clock struck midnight this past saturday. i was standing on a line that stretched long around the block, curling behind the union square barnes and nobles and had to shut off everyone chattering on about the leaked copies and speculating which characters may die and whether Harry himself will in fact survive. the joy that comes from reading these books is from discovering the secrets as they carefully reveal themselves. it upsets me when people purposely choose to ruin that experience for othes. i nearly got belligerent with a man and his nephew on a crowded subway earlier that day-- imploring them (yelling actually) to not say anything they may have heard as they caught me re-reading book 6 in heady anticipation.

the weather this weekend was gorgeous--perfect reading weather. so i planted myself in the park, stretched under the sun and sank into its pages. everywhere i went, there was someone reading HP 7: children, adults, burly men, old women. i love the fact that this series can appeal to so many. they are the only books that have ever caused me to scream in fear, yelp in shock, exclaim in public, laugh out loud, and always always-- makes me cry. rowling's prose is not always very beautiful; sometimes she tries too hard to tell so much, flailing into lengthy paragraphs of exposition (or worse, making the characters exposit with no action). but she is a meticulous storyteller with an amazing sense of pacing. and especially in HP7, she creates sequences that are so vivid and cinematic, i am often left breathless. but most definitely--what really sets Rowling apart-- is her ability to create fully developed characters that i cared for as if they were my own dear friends. she is so tender with each of them, burrowing deep into their minds, creating long and complex histories, so that every emotion and every movement is uniquely Hermione's. or Ron's. or Dobby's. or Snape's. Snape, perhaps the series' most complex character whom I developed a strange, hopeful empathy for since HP1 [Alan Rickman, btw, is ingeniously cast as Snape in the films. I love him].

i finished the book around 2am this morning. knowing that this was the last made me feel sentimental during the entire read. even now, as i'm writing this, i feel the heat of tears behind my eyes every time i recall certain scenes and realize that I would never again experience the wonder of Quidditch or Diagon Alley for the first time. it's like i'm saying goodbye to people i've watched grow up (and with the films, it truly does feel like we are watching those young actors grow up). while reading, i was trying to take in each page at a measured pace, savoring every second of its wizardry. but the story kept leaping and lurching forward, brimming with violence, shouting of horcruxes, and spinning from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place to of course, dear Hogwarts. and most wonderfully, the story continues to reinforce the basic life lessons like the importance of friendship, mercy that comes with remorse, and the most important lesson of all-- the overwhelming strength of love.

right now, i only have two friends that have finished the book. if you've finished, send me a line because all i want to do is discuss every heartbreaking second.

I Heart the Outer Boroughs

2007-07-15T23:38:00.000-04:00

seems like i've been spending most of my spare time galavanting through all boroughs EXCEPT manhattan. even as a manhattanite, i am not ashamed to admit that i have a soft spot for the outer boroughs. my grandparents live in flushing, so queens holds a tender place in my heart. and besides, flushing has the Best Dim Sum in new york city. i specify that because really? the best dim sum is in hong kong. other great things in queens: The Mets, home to my favorite sporting even (the U.S. Open), and two places I spent browning myself last weekend:

Water Taxi Beach
dude. i love this place. they even have their own blog. it's also just a great place to chill on a sunny weekend when the thought of venturing to a beach via train or car seems too overwhelming. My cous and I took the water taxi from the 34th street pier (also reachable via the 7 train-- 1 stop from manhattan) and parked ourselves on one of their benches. the sand here was hauled from new jersey (stop hating on the jersey!) and the spot overlooks the east river and the nyc skyline-- a perfect spot to drink cheap beers, eat bbq (even vegetarian options!) and watch the sunset. and on weekends they have Big Name DJs (i kid you not--Grandmaster Flash is friggin spinning in August) spinning till you're too wasted to worry if you're burnt to a crisp.

Jacob Riis Park
me and my NC gals road-tripped through all of brooklyn (and i mean, ALL of brooklyn) to get to "deserted" Jacob Riis Park in the Rockaways (that's the edge of Queens kids). and by deserted, i mean it was fucking crowded. holy shit, this place was packed with a whole other side of new york--tons of families (this place definitely shows Queens strong and growing latin population) grilling on the lawn and tons of more families frolicking on the beach. walk east a little, and you find the gay side of the beach. which is also the nude side of the beach. holy crap, i saw some boobs that i really wasn't prepared to see...and i thought the sun was blinding.

this weekend, i was all about BK! that's brooklyn bitches. except, the part of brooklyn i frequented was more refined, more grown-up, and more unlike my life. i spent half the weekend pretending that smith street was les champs elysses and celebrated bastille day with the rest of the cool brooklynites (often cool brooklyn couples walking hand-in-hand) and got in a game of petanque. my friend C and i had the Best Petanque Team Name: Team Twinkie. if you saw us, you would get it. the cafe owner who set up petanque courts showed me the proper way to toss un boule and i must admit, the game is friggin fascinating.

the other part of my weekend was spent at a friend's rooftop party in boerum hill (celebrity followers: they live 2 blocks from Heath and Michelle) and admired the incredible view from their newly refurbished roof. i have to admit, i had a bit of life-envy as i watched my friend's hubby grilling from their brand spanking new grill (with a nightlight included!) and admired the idyllic patio furniture as I sat munching on cucumber salad, staring over at manhattan in the not-so-far distance. yes, i aspire to a hip brooklyn lifestyle, including a hip brooklyn hubby who maybe cooks and is handy around the house and appreciates my affinity for a good roasted pork loin. mmm...pork. but last i checked, i'm still a manhattanite who lives alone, cooks (and drinks) by herself some days when not laughing up a storm and being stupid with friends on other days. i guess my dream life in the brooklyn (or another borough for that matter) will have to wait.

and THIS is why...

2007-05-29T20:48:00.000-04:00

you know how every joke is also really a half-truth? well, Y and I like to joke around and play this game we call 'and this is why we're single.' it's really not a game so much as a saying we employ every time we do something stupid. which (shockingly) happens often. like when we yell at each other at whisper-distance inside her apartment. or when i recount many a post-drunken rampage. or when i cackle instead of giggle like a fair maiden (or in Y's case, when she snorts). the list is endless.

this past weekend was a prime example of 'and this is why...' over-usage. i was down in d.c. for the long weekend after Y suggested (ironically?) that we go memorial hopping--since, who else on MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND would have the same exact idea? um, yeah. and it was really fun when it wasn't hellishly hot. so in an attempt to NOT belabor our most favored conversation topics (boys, tv, our silly friends, and of course...boys), we indulged in some uber-dorkiness while monument hopping. see exhibit A:

this was of course taken while a Hot Guy walked by. thus, and this is why i'm single...

then, playing the role of Asian Tourist with a look! i'm a giant! compared to the lincoln memorial:

i was laughing hysterically through some of these photos that i almost fell into the tidal basin. which would have warranted yet another reason for why...oh you get the point! it's never-ending! and it didn't help that not only was the City built on a Swamp boiling over with humidity, but an unseasonable wind would often kick up (literally) my skirt to reveal my goods to a bevy of homeless men, metro riders, and an entire corner of Dupont Circle where i am sure a sidewalk full of restaurant patrons enjoying brunch were thrilled to see that i was wearing floral undies. at least i didn't go commando. see? this is why i'm single. you can't take me anywhere!

art-full

2007-05-20T20:43:00.000-04:00

despite a late night partying in a very rainy brooklyn, i summoned up some residual energy to roll out of bed and trek uptown to see the Robert Moses exhibit at the Museum of the City of New York, one of the more under-rated museums in this city. it's a beautiful, small museum and i implore anyone with a remote interest in New York City history to venture to this exhibit-- just one in a three exhibit series (the others at the Queens Museum and the other at the Wallach Gallery at Columbia University) on the City's greatest master planner. it features photographs, plans, and models of his successes (the Triborough Bridge, Henry Hudson Parkway, East River Park) and his defeats (the Lower Manhattan Expressway, which would have razed down historic Washington Square Park; or the Brooklyn-Battery Bridge, which would have placed a double suspension bridge across NY Harbor).

for better or worse, Moses' legacy is undeniable; he was the architect behind much of the City's beloved public spaces as well as a man whose vision for urban renewal centered on major infrastructure development, linking the City to its outer regions rather than preserving neighborhoods. in many ways, Moses stood for much of what I dislike about modern economic development: a razor-sharp focus on improving the place with little regard to the people who reside in those places. on the other hand, without his leadership, the City may never have seen some of its greatest treasures (and some of my personal favorite spots), including: Central Park Zoo, the Conservatory Gardens, and Lincoln Center.

the Moses exhibit was do-able in less than 90 minutes, giving me time to catch some rays in Central Park before meeting friends for a much more downtown art experience. in fact it was downtown, out of one borough and into Bed-Stuy Brooklyn where Mel's friend was one of a number of artists showcasing their work at an artist enclave where artists live and work in affordable spaces. the installation we saw was phenomenal-- a clinical interpretation of Greek myths, interwoven (literally) with musical over- and undertones. she's brilliant. it's intimidating and yet she is anything but intimidating. man, i wish i had that kind of mind. it was a great day.

oh apolo

2007-05-14T23:44:00.000-04:00

Y is sooooo going to kill me for actually posting about this. but i'm gonna. try to stop me! the power of fluffy reality television has me in its crazy grip and i'm completely obsessed with this season's Dancing with the Stars. go ahead and judge me, i don't care. sure, i mocked season 1 (um, who the hell are these D-list celebrities?) but once NFL legends Jerry Rice and Emmit Smith signed up to jive, quick-step, and cha-cha-cha into MY HEART i was sold. if manly football players can revel in such sequined glory then i'll have no shame in watching them do it.

and this season, i am officially in love. IN LOVE with apolo anton ohno. oh my goodness, who knew a short-track speed skater could shake his hips?!?! he is such a little fellow (no way i buy the 5' 8'' listed as his 'official' height) but man, when he launches into his latin dances, it's like porn. seriously, i'm not sure what i'm going to do monday nights after the show ends next week. i need someone to make me an apolo dance-montage-video so on those lonely nights, i can slip into something comfortable, sip a dirty martini and just watch apolo dance the rumba over and over and over...fan me!

the final countdown...

2007-05-09T23:14:00.000-04:00

cue the music. there will be no more delaying of adulthood, no more wasting away a random tuesdays watching bad daytime TV because I have no class and rather endure Rosie yapping on The View than read another econ paper.yep the time has come no matter how much i want to just pause and enjoy it. i am mere hours from receiving my masters degree. or at least, standing up and receiving a faux diploma until all my grades check out since it's possible i could have truly screwed up my final final exam last night. let's just say i should never be asked to design a government provided income subsidy program for the unemployed. EVER.

commencements are such silly events. we get dressed up in ugly, oversized coats and wear stupid hats and convince ourselves that its a 'regal' affair. but i know it's something my family really love (or at least, pretend to love) and i'm hoping the years since my last dance to pomp and circumstance has given me better perspective on how to handle myself: this day is not for me, it's for them. so i am going to try really really REALLY (that's an extra really) hard to be mature, exercise extreme patience, and smile happily when my parents want yet another picture of me with the Dean. yea, so i guess i'll just have to suppress all my natural tendencies. i am sooooo gonna need a Big Drink after this week.

the burden of choice

2007-04-15T23:23:00.000-04:00

many have told me that i am in an enviable situation, and i cannot disagree. after months of endless interviews, soul shattering self-analysis, and two or three poorly timed, stress-induced breakdowns-- i have the good fortune of receiving two amazing job offers. of course, true to form, i'm now facing another round of soul shattering self-analysis and stress-induced near breakdowns just trying to decide which one to take. again, not exactly a bad situation but its not going to stop me from whining and complaining like the little beeyatch that i am!

life is filled with choices. but it's also about timing. and opportunities don't often present themselves once, much less twice, so i'm taking pause to at least reflect on and enjoy this. although no one can predict the future, it's still very strange to recognize the different directions your life can take just by making a single choice. that all the little and big moments in our lives-- a missed train, a random meeting-- leads to a certain set of actions and consequences that wouldn't have happend if those instances didn't occur. it's all very Sliding Doors, though i hate comparing my career choices to a gwyneth paltrow movie.

so my pros/cons list is made and i am closing in on a decision. its scary and exciting at the same time. and i know that no one will understand this: but making a choice is also a little bittersweet. despite the exhaustion, anxiety, and stress of the past six months-- besides the constant plague of self-doubt-- i'm gonna miss this process a little. i've learned so much about myself and about the lives of others, and i hate the idea of letting someone down. but that's life for you. and its time to take a leap and hope for the best. wish me luck!

...and a half

2007-04-14T15:15:00.000-04:00

Six months from now, a digit changes, and another decade is put on the shelf of my past—only to be referred to longingly with a mixture of affection, remorse, and way too many ‘I can’t believe I did THAT!’ moments. Turning 30 is not old per se and it doesn’t have to be a Big Deal, but denying its significance is akin to saying that aging makes no difference in our lives. And truthfully, thirty has been a focal point for me over the past couple of years, acting as a signpost to delineate where youth ends and adulthood truly begins.

Approaching thirty set off a spool of anxiety through me because of the responsibility associated with that age: I have to fuck around less and focus more; I need to pin down what I want and how I hope to get there. It’s not an endpoint by any means—but it does send a signal to society, to my peers, and to my ovaries that time won’t stop moving no matter how much I want to avoid it. And I don’t want to live without purpose, without acknowledging that every day with this body and with this mind is precious, so I better enjoy it.

So. Instead of collapsing under the weight of that age, I want to live out my twenties in style and with joy so that I start my thirties ready for even better things. And rather than focus on what hasn’t happened yet, I can at least check off all the things that have and will: earning a master’s degree, obtaining a job I’m excited to do in a field I’ve hoped to work in, an abundance of friends that make me laugh so hard my stomach writhes in pain, a healthy and (for the most part) supportive family, and a city that I still love and can’t yet imagine leaving. Thirty is looking good. But right now, 29 and a half feels awesome.

Madness!

2007-03-16T20:08:00.000-04:00

hooray! i love march! so many cool days-- pi day, ides of march day, st. patrick's day...and of course...MARCH MADNESS!!!!! this year, i'm in three (THREE!) pools and apparently, it makes me really like exclaimation points!!!!!!!!!!!

okay, for seriously. this is tres important stuff. at stake: nearly $4,000. sadly or fortuitously (ask me when the final seconds tick down and a new champion cuts down the nets), i decided to share my potential winnings or losings with Y this year. it's a good way for me to hedge my bets now that NCAA basketball has become an exercise in over-analysis for me. i've won three pools but have been in a three year dry spell (for shame)--and since the first pool, i've acquired a little too much knowledge about the games, the teams, the hot stars. i even got my poor innocent friends into--dragging them to vegas a couple years back, forcing them to throw their money (and ear drums) away on parlays, weeping into their vodka tonics over missed spreads. oh good times. but too much knowledge, as any seasoned bracket buster will tell you, is the WORST kind of knowledge to have.

so this year, since Y and i are sharing the wins/losses, i decided to try a two-pronged bracket strategy: (1) my real picks. you know, where i over-think, bite my nails and engage in a pick-erase-re-pick cycle of self-destruction, and (2) my Mascot strategy: choose the mascot i prefer. Great Danes or Cavaliers? The Wolf Pack or Blue Jays? Fightin' Illini or Salukis? dude. i learned so much. did you know that an Illini is a Native American tribe? we once thought it could be a magician. luckily, a great dane is still indeed a dog. heh. depending how i fare, i'll do the mascot strategy again. next time though, i'll pick which mascot will win in a street fight.

Resolutions, Take Two

2007-02-19T23:36:00.000-05:00

i am so proud to be chinese. first, because of the rich cultural history that comes with my ancestry. and second, for the impeccable (and flexible) timing provided by the lunar calendar--giving undisciplined procrastinators like myself a second chance at New Years Resolutions. happy new year! and as it is the year of my favorite meat product, i want to be sure i make good on my goal to exercise more so i don't actually start looking like a pig.

i am not a fan of diets. in fact, i don't believe in them. but the correlation between aging and the slowing of one's metabolism is becoming a personal reality for me. and all the bad habits i picked up over the last few months-- eating dinner at 10pm; sleeping less than 6 hours a night--due to my effed up schedule of late classes and non-active workdays in the office-- has taken a toll on my body. i am definitely above my 'comfortable' weight, feeling the pinch of my jeans and seeing the minor bulge of my gut. this realization is really tough to swallow: it's taken me years to love my body-- both its flaws (wide hips, thick legs) and the gifts from nature (an hourglass shape). i don't want four months of low aerobic activity mixed with one-too-many late nite bites to undo a decade of learning to feel good about both my body and myself.

i don't want to be a slave to how i look, but i definitely know that feeling heavier negatively affects all the other areas of my psyche: my confidence lags, i get increasingly moody, and because i feel incapable of looking pretty/sexy/attractive...i don't even make an effort. on the surface, i'll blame it on winter doldrums. but we all know that's just a euphemism for feeling fat. so. i'm on a mission. not a diet, but a mission. i want to get back to my 'best self'-- which was the body i had about a year and a half ago-- 7 lbs lighter and a more-than-roomy size 6. so yesterday, i signed up for Self.com's Reach Your Goal body makeover program. it's nothing more than a way to keep myself personally accountable for how i eat and how often i work out. my goal is not to deny myself anything food-wise (that includes wine, beer, fries, and yes, pork!) but also to not make any excuses about working out at least three times a week. it's an achievable plan and i'm hoping to see results by the time summer rolls around. wish me luck!

Drunk (and Single) on V-Day. Again.

2007-02-14T00:23:00.000-05:00

(hiccup). it's raining mini-icicles right now in new york. true to form, i wore heels to work today so walking home from school ROCKED! literally. it is true, i am a genius. which may or may not account for why i find myself single (again) on this anti-wonderful, poorly conceived, vomit-worthy holiday. happy valentine's day to me! and in case i was searching for an answer to 'whyyyyy???? whyyyyy am i still single?!?!?!?!?!' i can stop searching, because Time Out New York (TONY) has solved that problem for me in their latest issue, aptly titled: Why You're Still Single (and what you can do about it). holy crap, you mean drinking a bottle of wine alone in my apartment is NOT the appropriate solution? eff me.

in an homage to a single gal's biggest fear (sorry Y, but at least you only have just one), the mag's cover features a chick toting her fat kitty. inside, there is a slew of (often realistic) reasons to why you (or me or Y or the rest of single America) may be having trouble finding that special someone or just that special someone right now. ha. this includes the typical (you're desperate; you're commitment-phobic; you just got your heart stomped on) to the friggin hilarious: you're ugly; you speak in catchphrases; you're a short/skinny guy; you only date musicians, or you're secretly gay. for each deficiency, they generously offer a set of tips to counter these misfortunes. for you're ugly,they suggest a restaurant where diners can eat while blindfolded. ha! for getting over your ex, they suggest an open-mike nite. and if spouting poetry is not your thing, you can always get sauced and pump up your ego with a one-night-stand in hoboken-- land of the Eternal Frat Boy. hee.

so this is the first time i've splurged ($2.99) on this annual lonely-hearts issue. last year, i at least had a date to look forward to just 2 days post-Vday; the year before my friend and I made Man-wiches (uh-huh), drank beer, and gabbed about how i should wrestle myself away (again) from a hard-to-forget ex. but this year, the year in which i get my Masters AND--gulp--turn the Big 3-0...i felt weirdly compelled to find a reason to balk this trend, take action, and resolve myself out of singledom! but alas, i'm too lazy to make an effort to flirt, shave my legs, or join some random sports league/dance class/cooking club as a means to meeting men, ahem...new friends. blah blah, screw love and bottoms up!

A Fan of Losers

2007-01-31T11:47:00.000-05:00

i'm a huge sports fan. but a fan of losers. lovable ones, but losers nonetheless. case in point: my favorite basketball team? Utah Jazz. two straight losses to the effen Chicago Bulls in 1997 and 1998. favorite baseball team? The Mets. let's not talk about this past season, 'kay? and for a while, my favorite football team was the Buffalo Bills. need i remind you of the four straight Super Bowl losses in the '90s? don't think so.

there's something about getting behind an underdog, hoping against hope that the little guy can slay the biggest and brightest (and usually, the most over-hyped and un-deserving!). but sometimes-- and this may be sacrilege-- but sometimes, we love the losers more when they remain losers. when an underdog gets slaughtered during a game...or worse, when they get this close only to lose in the most heartbreaking fashion...it's what i love about sports and it's what makes some sports heroes tragic ones: terminally flawed, perpetually questioned, easily embraced. which is why this article, by ESPN Page 2 writer Eric Neel, really resonated with me. first, Neel is a gifted writer. second, he's able to convey the complexity of sports-love in a way that completely escapes me. his reasoning for why he wishes Peyton Manning doesn't win this coming Sunday (though i still hope he does) is pitch perfect.

Follow Your Dream, Girls!

2007-01-20T23:48:00.000-05:00

we're smack in the middle of the awards season and i'm VERY behind on my movies-- especially the ones jockeying to make the Oscar shortlist come (gasp!) January 23. so what did i do during my winter break? catch the eff up on movie watching. and there's still a loooong way to go. i'm gonna have to prioritize after the noms go out...

the films i did get a chance to see all seemed to revolve around women dreaming (or fantasizing?) about better things:

Dream Girls
And I am telling you...Jennifer Hudson is AMAZING. after reading all the reviews, i feared her performance was over-hyped. fortunately, i was wrong. her explosion on the screen was very real, especially during that much impersonated/lip-synched/karaoke'd rendition of film's signature showstopper. i really did get goosebumps. and don't let the ads fool you-- this is Hudson's film. Beyonce just gets to look beautiful in an endless array of costume changes. when Hudson (and the Eddie Murphy) wasn't on screen, the film lost some of its heat.

watching this at New York's historic Ziegfeld theater was quite also quite the trip. the sound was fantastic and the audience was always a) on the verge of tears b) giving a standing ovation, or c) crying 'you go girl!' at the movie screen. at the end, i think the line of men sitting in front of us were holding each other weeping. haha!

Little Children
I have the biggest girl-crush on Kate Winslet. She is just so fantastic. And beautiful. And she never fails to wow me. I am sure she'll get a nomination for her performance as an unhappy wife who has an affair with an unhappy married man she meets at the playground (the perfect-looking Patrick Wilson). I will always admire Winslet's complete lack of self-consciousness in all of her roles.

Notes on a Scandal
this movie is a trip. it's billed as a drama but it is more melo-dramatic and packs a lot of tension and entertainment in a tight 90 minutes. Cate Blanchett (she of the ridiculous cheekbones) plays a upper-class bohemian art teacher with a frustrating personal life who becomes the not-so-subtle object of Judi Dench's affection. Dench's lecherous attachment/attraction to Cate and her family is both creepy and pathetic. Almost as creepy as Cate's affair with a 15 year old student, an entangelement that leads to her character's inevitable, yet brutal downfall. Nearly everyone in this film is unsympathetic but it is so wonderfully acted and cleverly written, you can't help loving every second of it.

Children of Men
it is 2027. and mankind has lost its ability to reproduce. the world is in a state of perpetual violence and chaos. if you can't guess already, please don't watch this film if you're looking for something light and uplifting. Children of Men is decidedly bleak, eerily realistic in its prescient view of our collective future. The film is often shot with a shaky hand-held camera, which captures the world in total grayness (sunlight does not seem appropriate for a time when a baby's whimper has become a lost artifact of the past). Clive Owen gives a performance that is Oscar-worthy and it would be a nice surprise to see his name come up on Tuesday morning.

what's next on my must-see list? Volver. I love Almodovar films. And they're the only way I can bear Penelope Cruz. Babel. Hopefully some choice Oscar nods will keep this movie in theaters. The Queen. Isn't it a given Helen Mirren will win? Isn't it also a given that Helen Mirren has the best cleavage for a 60 year old? and of course, The Departed. Why have I waited so long to see this one?!?! Oh well.

Res-OH-lutions!

2007-01-09T20:47:00.000-05:00

now that we're more than a week into the new year, i finally feel ready to make some of those new years resolutions. one of them, of course, will NOT be to procrastinate less. ha! other resolutions not making the cut: drink less (puh-leez), eat less (i don't do diets), curse less (fucking impossible), and study more (more? i can barely avoid procrastinating!). and no cop-out ones like get my master's. cuz, well...that is definitely going to happen. definitely. but real, genuine resolutions? well here goes nothing...let's see how long i last. i think the over/under is about 6 weeks. we'll see if i get there.

1. Drink more milk. but not with tea. and by more, i mean a full 2 glasses a day. i just can't rely on the milk i pour in my coffee or cereal. it does a body good, right?

2. Work out at least 3 times a week. this will hopefully counteract the NOT drinking and eating less.

3. Try to minimize the number of fights I have with my parents. This will require a ton of patience and managing my temper...which will be tough every time my mom reminds me that finding a husband is like finding a job...

4. Spend more time with ALL of my friends.

5. BUDGET! BETTER! i think i did a good job trying to save money this past year (and investing smartly so i wouldn't spend)...but with the prospect of paying down education loans in the not-so-far future, i should really try to spend less money on on frivolous things. but that doesn't include food and alcohol. c'mon! i need to sustain myself somehow!

Good Riddance 2006!

2007-01-03T17:56:00.000-05:00

well another year has ended. and i am proud to say that this year, my new years eve did not include any of the following: puking, black-outs, temper tantrums, or losing a cell phone. hooray me! even more surprising, i wasn't even that drunk when the clock struck twelve...tipsy, yes. but drunk? nope. and to think, i was doing the wine dinner at Cite. that's right, wine dinner. six bottles of wine for the six gals round the table. it was awesome. we dressed up, chatted and gossipped and downed our steaks (or in M.E.'s case, fish) like the lovely amazing single ladies that we are. fuck men. and fuck the couples sitting around us. we were definitely having the best time at the restaurant.

no end-of-year-send-off is without a recap to the year that was. so here's my personal version of a best/worst of list for 2006...

Five Things I Won't Miss from 2006:

1. The first 25 minutes. where i learned that drinking more than 8 glasses of champagne doesn't just blur your vision, it also leads to bad decision-making, like choosing a cab where the driver is a first class prick. so i messed up your cab, you messed up my nite. jerk.

2. The assholes I dated. from the one who said goodbye via text (classy move buddy) to the one with absolutely no bedroom etiquette, i am done with both of you. seriously. fresh start for 2007, thank you very much.

3. All the fights I had (or didn't have, because some times we can be so passive-aggressive) with family and friends. I'm sorry. Whatever it was, it was most likely petty and I am sure I was as much a hurtful instigator as I was hurt. Here's to forgiveness :)

4. That really really horrible statistics class I endured from January - May. 90 minutes a week could not have passed ANY slower.

5. The result of this game. It took a lot of emotion out of me. Although exhilirating, this year I hope for a win.

Five Things I Won't Forget from 2006:

1. Getting the internship of my dreams. It is rare to hope and work for something and then to actually obtain it...with opportunity comes enormous expectations. although challenging, the job was the first positive professional experience i've had in a couple of years.

2. One really great first date. Although it didn't turn into everlasting love (and though I'm still a little bitter), I still hope to re-capture that feeling. let's just hope i'm a little less gushy next time.

3. Three great months living in D.C. I had a ton of fun.

4. Some awesome concerts. This is random, but going to live music events really energizes me and allows me to forget any stress going on in my life. you can't beat that feeling. from seeing New Pornographers at the New Yorker Festival to rocking out at We Are Scientists (in D.C. and Brooklyn), i want to make sure this year includes more music.

5. Buidling stronger friendships, with both old and new friends. You really can never have too many...and without them, I'd be a neurotic mess.

good riddance 2006. hoping for a longer best-of list in 2007...

NY Gems

2006-12-29T23:58:00.000-05:00

today, i ventured up to Upper Manhattan via the M4 bus...which, though lovely to be above ground on a such a sunny day, it still took 90 EFFEN MINUTES to get from 83rd and Madison to 190th and Fort Washington. but i digress as the journey was worth it. i got to re-visit one of NYC's gems: The Cloisters. this Metropolitan Museum of Art outpost is exclusively dedicated to European medieval art, most famous of its exhibits are the unicorn tapestries. it's a beautiful but somber place, with magnificent views of the Hudson River and George Washington Bridge. i was there for a concert for which my spectacularly talented friend Misch performed in. she performed as a part of a Trio featuring medeival chants and songs celebrating Christmas. i sat for an hour just transfixed by the purity of their voices. what a gift.

and lest i forget another gem in NYC, i finally uploaded some pics from my visit to the NY Botanical Garden back in October. M.E. accompanied me on a b-day field trip to this section of the Bronx to partake in the Chihuly Blown Glass Exhibit there. it was the perfect way to celebrate my birthday-- walking around the immense and immaculate gardens, examining the precision in the glasswork and spending some quality time with a new friend.

The Gift of Giving?

2006-12-26T23:45:00.000-05:00

happy holidays to all! i am so grateful to be getting some much needed R&R at my parents house, where in-between the requisite badgering of why i'm still not married, i at least get a chance to eat well, sleep lots, hang with family, and of course, catch up on reading that has NOTHING to do with school. i've accumulated piles of magazines to go through before 2006 gets away from me and the articles become oh-so-last-year.

however, it's been particularly frustrating to read stuff and then share my opinions/questions with my family. my parents' reactions are nearly always the polar opposite of mine-- to a point where a generic discussion often disintegrates into personalized attackes of 'what's wrong with you' to 'you just don't understand where i'm coming from'. it is no secret that i lean just left of center on many issues (and very far left on social ones) and sometimes i have to remind them that i attend a grad program for public service. this implies a need to serve others, which to my parents translates into an unworthy career choice as the end-goal is not one of maximizing personal salary, but something else. this is not to say that my parents are greedy...they are immigrants who have worked their way up for the American Dream which has provided an amazing life for me and my brother. for them, hard work = more money which then = more opportunity. that equation works for them and is true in many respects for me. but more money does not always = more happiness. and by extension, pursuing a career that will not generate AS MUCH money than say...a career on Wall Street does not make it any less worthy, less ambitious, or less fulfilling. and that last word is key. for my parents, fulfillment and career are not always linked-- its not a factor in their 'success' equation. and that's fine, but that's not me.

for my parents, the idea of "public service" is something that should come after i've amassed a "suitable" living for myself (suitable is defined loosely and i am not above admitting to enjoying more than a few indulgences but i am most certainly not overly extravagant). their favorite go-to examples are Bill and Melinda Gates, whose foray into philanthropy took root waaaaaaay after Microsoft took over the world and generated oodles of profits (snark, snark). sure, its easy (and morally responsible, if you ask me) to give back when you have ga-jillions of dollars to play with but not everyone can or wants to wait until they strike it rich to invest in a public or nonprofit-driven career.

this then led to a larger debate we had about philanthropy. it is the end of the year which means it's also peak time for charitable giving. holidays bring out the best in people. holidays, and the rush to get those last minute donations out for those nifty tax deductions. it's okay, i do it too. but philanthropy can be a tricky issue. it can put people on the defensive or put others on some moral high ground. my parents are all for donating dollars to good causes-- they do it every year-- but they think philanthropy should come after meeting the primary needs of your family. i agree with them to a point-- our own need to survive and sustain ourselves should be a priority. but i also believe in the moral obligation we have as individuals to 'give' some parts of our lives-- be it in time or through monetary means-- to those less fortunate than ourselves, especially when we can afford to have more than what sustains us. to have to defend my volunteer time or the extra dollar i'll give to a program i believe in is ridiculous, and not something i ever thought i'd argue with my parents about.

we all work hard to earn each dollar (at least, i hope we do) so we deserve to spend those dollars in any way we see fit. i've justified many past indulgences on the benefits of bonuses and salary raises. hell, it's my money! but when i start weeping after a Nightline segment on the violence in Darfur or children starving in Southeast Asia, it's hard not realize how much those tears are soaked with hypocrisy: i can always give more, but i often always forget, or worse, i just don't.

so this article was particulary interesting, as it helped frame the merits of my argument with my parents . it was written by Princeton philosopher Peter Singer, who devised a formula for what % of total income people should give to charity. his focus was first on the philanthropic work of billionaires, but extended to middle income earners where he suggested a progressive 'giving rate,' ensuring all able American families can share in the cause. Singer's argument is that if we, collectively as a nation, preach the need to reduce global poverty (hello, UN Millenium Development Goals; or any of the glitzy, celebrity-endorsed campaigns such as Product (Red), or Bono's One Campaign), then we should collectively be willing to contribute more than we currently do.

and what about people who dedicate their lives, whose wages are often built on work to help the poor and disadvantaged? should those people give an additional percentage of their income or should the fact that their career is dedicated to helping those less fortunate be enough? the New Yorker featured an article on Muhammed Yunnus, the 2006 winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, and others building out the micro-credit industry-- which offers a way out of poverty for those who have struggled for generations. but the article features both sides of microfinancing-- those who profit from these 'loans to the poor' and those who believe such credit lines should be exclusively not-for-profit. Fast Company produces an annual 'Social Capitalist Awards' issue which highlights the work of social entrepreneurs, whose enterprises seek to improve the world around us. is their work philanthropic enough...or is there never enough? and if their work generates a profit, does that profit diminish their social value?

these are questions i often wrestle with both in the choices i make in my daily life, and in the choices i seek to make in my professional one. and it frustrating to constantly hit this wall when i attempt to share these issues with my parents. the ideas of 'social value' and philanthropy don't make sense in terms of a career choice. but i guess that's why there's always two sides to every argument.

Five Ways to Procrastinate. Or, How I Learned to Live with Mediocrity.

2006-12-13T19:59:00.000-05:00

That fine line between procrastination and sheer denial? Crossed it. At least a hundred times in the past two weeks. And does it stop me from bitching and whining like a little girl about all the work I have to do? Nope. I still do that. It’s the charm of me.

I’m not sure how I caught the procrastination bug. As a youngster, I religiously obeyed the ‘never-put-off-until-tomorrow…’ mantra and in my first Real Adult Job, I rarely strayed from my workplans, getting my shit done in a fairly systematic manner. But that all went to hell a number of years ago, and is even more pronounced now in my life as a grad student. For some strange reason, I like to push the boundaries of all my deadlines—right to the very last second. It’s a bad habit that I don’t condone, but one I can’t seem to avoid. Really, it’s like crack: I’m addicted to the adrenaline rush that comes with knowing the clock is literally ticking and that project/paper/presentation just needs to get eff done already. Somehow, I convince myself this makes me more efficient. The inevitable remorse comes later—that moment when I hand in a paper and know (in fact, a little ashamed) that it's not my greatest work. Actually, it’s not even my tenth greatest work. And that can be a bitter truth to swallow—especially for a crazy perfectionist like myself. But can perfectionism and procrastination co-exist? Probably not. Which is why now, my third semester of grad school is the time when I’ve finally made peace with the fact that mediocrity is sometimes good enough. I mean, it’s my own darn fault for waiting until 48 hours before a deadline to start writing a 20 page research paper. Or two hours before a deadline to complete a twelve slide presentation. Whatever.

But really, what am I doing instead? Well kids, I’ve made procrastination into a friggin art form. Technically, its the internet which has better enabled me to develop greater procrastination techniques. The internet and television. And that combination has produced this how-to guide on how NOT to get your work done. cheers!

1. Web Reading. lots of it. there is always something more interesting to read (like: this or this) vs. starting a paper. often, i convince myself that what i'm reading is actually productive (as opposed to counter) since i'm addicted to the nerdy-liciousness of the Freakonomics blog or Malcolm Gladwell's insightful prose.. of course, there's also the less than academic sites that feed my personal obsessions, be it music or food or new restaurant openings (and closings) here in NYC. i gotta keep up-to-date...even while pushing a deadline.

2. Reviews and Reviewing. love reading reviews. of EVERYTHING. whether its movies or a new album. and reading user reviews always crack me up. people are so opinionated, i love it. and when i want to self-indulge in my own opinions [here's the blatant self-promotion!], i go and yelp. that's write (hee!). yelp. go there. be cool. and vote (positively of course) for my oh-so-fun reviews.

3 . Online Televison. as i had so many evening classes this semester (and often forgot to set my vcr) it was quite a blessing that so much tv can be watched online. i think i caught nearly every episode of Ugly Betty online. and asides tv, there's all the cool online videos-- and i'm not just talking youtube. want a good laugh? you MUST (MUST!) watch the webisodes of Late Night with Conan O'Brien's Pale Force. its an animated series featuring pale super-heroes Conan and Jim Gaffigan and their fleet of blindingly pale characters (e.g. Ron Howard; The White Stripes) battle those who seek to destroy their paleness. it is SO FUNNY. watch it. trust me.

4. Actual Television. it's really bad how addicted i am to television. sad but true. i can't help it! i love tv! whether its the Iron Chef America on the food network or a Top Chef marathon on Bravo or even better, some 'Totally Awesome...' specials on VH1, there's always something on!

5. Fantasy Vacation Planning. i'm not kidding. there are so many ways to fake-plan a vacation online and on tv. i love the travel channel. all of their shows give me great vacay ideas...assuming that one day i will have the time (and money) to take one. i adore globe trekker, and think Ian Wright is the coolest traveller around. and is it me, or does Samantha Brown have the BEST JOB in the world? me thinks, yes. how did she get so lucky?

thank goodness the semester is almost over. so i can stop procrastinating and instead find more websites/television shows to procrastinate on for NEXT semester. :)

Much Ado

2006-12-01T19:58:00.000-05:00

to the handful of people who may read this blog, i say to you: do not fear. i am fine. promise. despite my occasional bouts with sadness , i am not ready to throw myself off a subway platform or anything. i mean, why do that when i can just drink myself into oblivion? hehe. just kidding. sorta. there's barely any liquor in my apartment anyway. but seriously, thanks for caring and worrying.

now, what can rescue a girl from a serious case of the blues? well, tv of course! yes, i am an easy sell. but c'mon, i only have so much. so to that i say: Scrubs! is back! on Thursday! it's amazing how much this show continues to make me crack the eff up. loved seeing the cast breaking down to an 'N Sync ringtone. and the little detail of how JD got his girl preggers? omg, HIL-arity. and of course, there's just Mr. Zach Braff himself. still dorky, still cute, still love him.

and because my most significant relationship is indeed with my television, i now have yet another show to obsess over. bye bye ladies of Sex and the City, and welcome My Boys. its a new comedy on TBS where the heroine--PJ--is the anti-Carrie Bradshaw. she doesn't wear manolos, she wears sneakers. and she drinks beers. and her best friends are a bunch of guys that she mocks and plays pokers with. despite the fact that sometimes, the show seems like a 30 minute advertisement for match.com , i immediately fell for these characters and the natural chemistry/camraderie they exude. in the first ep, PJ's attempt at a Booty Call made me laugh so loud, i think my near-deaf neighbor maybe heard me. guess my hibernation buddy this winter is most certainly my tv.

My Battle with Myself

2006-11-25T23:49:00.000-05:00

sometimes, there are moments when i am so painfully aware of my loneliness. like when i continue to prolong the day into the late nite hours, leaving the tv on for fear of sitting by myself in silence. and then again, in that moment every nite when i'm getting ready for bed--i walk through my apartment, turning off the lights until i'm left in the dark with only the sound of my feet and the faint humming of the fridge. right before i close my eyes, i often wonder if the very purposeful over-scheduling i do in my life--with work and classes and volunteering and social engagements--is really just a way to shield myself from the truth of being alone.

it's been a tough few months for me. i hate writing about it so publicly, but there is nowhere else for me to put it. and it's not like there is something in particular for me to feel upset about--it is after all, the time of thanksgiving. and i certainly have much to be thankful for. but it doesn't erase those times of severe stress, where i feel so much pressure to perform at work at school at life-- that i'll just burst into tears for no reason at the dinner table or snap at my parents or my friends because i know no other way to act. i go through this cycle of guilt that i'm not doing enough to live up to my own expectations as a person as a daughter as a friend and then i come home to an empty apartment and have no one to share this guilt with.

when i first moved into my own place, it was a feeling of unbridled joy. i treasured the freedom and space to live as i wished-- so what if i have yet to decorate it to my true liking? or that sometimes, i want to leave dishes in the sink for an extra day? it is my place, and i could do what i want. it was a symbol of my rise to adulthood and independence. but as the years trot on and i've aged further into my twenties, the euphoria of single living is slowly wearing away.

i know that i can do a lot of things on my own and even achieve some semblance of contentment. but the truth is, i don't want it to be that way. and it's not because i'm an extrovert or that i'm co-dependent or desperate for a relationship. it's because i really do long for that connection with others, that assurance that my presence actually matters to someone. and although some will be quick to say--'why of course you matter.' i am not an idiot. anyone can qualify as an afterthought. we are all self-absorbed people with a limited amount of love and empathy to share. and therein lies my problem: i feel like i haven't been able to share anything remotely deep with anyone lately. and i've used the excuse of time as the reason, but really its my own sheer avoidance. it's as if exposing to others all of the issues causing me dissatisfaction will only reveal a hard, cold fact: that no one really cares but me. a thought like that is better left alone by itself.

Networking

2006-11-16T23:52:00.000-05:00

class tonite consisted of nearly 30 minutes of playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. no joke. actually, we played Six Degrees of Don Cheadle cuz my prof loves The Cheadle (who doesn't?). today I learned (or was forced to remember) that Cheadle did indeed guest star on 'ER' back in the day.

[sidebar: click on here-- its an algorithm of sorts created by crazy computer science nerds at UVA cross-referencing all the movie data crunched into IMDB to spit out anybody with a movie credit's connection to Bacon. Or Cheadle. whoever. ]

okay, i do go to a high quality grad program. really, i do. we don't play games in EVERY class but today's topic du jour was 'networks,' or more specifically, social networks and the significance they hold for entrepreneurs in particular (i'm taking a social entrepreneurship class). so along with playing Six Degrees we also worked on diagramming our social networks and listing out who are the Top Five folks we'd (1) go for career advice (2) ask for $, as in, ask for investment $ (3) start a business with. were our lists distinctly different or was there a lot of overlap? was there diversity in the peeps we named?

honestly, i detest networking. it's a hatefully insincere regimen that doesn't cease to exhaust me: smile. handshake. smile. recite schpiel. swap business cards. handshake. smile. ugh. i'm tired just thinking about it. but no matter how much we despise quote unquote networking...its a necessary evil in this dogfight of a world. if we want people to notice-- to get a table, get a job, or get people to believe in you-- a network is key. and if you want to get those things faster, you need the right network. in fact, its not about close personal relationships, so much as we are able capitalize on the more 'casual,' weaker ties we have, as they may turn out to be the critical nodes in our life. as class progressed, i felt that long pang of regret from all the acquaintances i failed to keep better in touch with. or these days, the close friends i fail to return phone calls/emails with. dude, i suck. my social network will probably get me nowhere. sigh. shake. frown.

Retail Therapy

2006-11-13T01:21:00.001-05:00

it is true. i'm a shopaholic. brand names don't matter to me so much as a good deal. i love that feeling of putting on something shiny and new but knowing the little secret to what a great price i scored for it. it gives me a pep in my step, provides a better upper than any drug can truly offer.

so i owe lots of thanks to dearest Holly for the best b-day gift ever! the gift of shopping. we went to 2nd annual lucky shops event here in nyc last friday for a day of total indulgence (so much so, i believe we both went over-budget). there were crowds of girls, yes. and sure, i had to strip down to my skivvies in public to try on stuff...but that is the sacrifice for a great deal. serious brand names at more than 50-60% off! thank goodness they offered free chair massages, free ice cream, free coffee, and free cocktails as a way to wind down after all the hard core shopping. it was also such a great stress-relief for me, as i've been going through a pretty overwhelming schedule of classes, work, and what not. so what if i have to find a way to pay for this stuff? at least i get to feel good about myself when i put my new duds on. thanks again, holly!

Looking for Inspiration

2006-11-04T14:37:00.000-05:00

My tear ducts had a workout this week. Yes, it’s no secret that I’m a softie who cries at even the silliest romantic comedies, but no one should doubt the sincerity behind each salty little drop. This week, I wasn’t crying so much as I was moved—inspired really—by people who translate their passions into action. Despite all the stress and frustration that comes with taking risks to follow your dreams, it’s nice to be reminded that hard work can pay off.

First moment came in Chicago last weekend. I was there attending the 2006 Net Impact conference with fellow grad students (Net Impact is a global network of professionals interested in using business skills to achieve social change) and didn’t expect to have access to so many driven, motivated leaders. One of whom was John Wood, founder of Room to Read. He was there promoting his latest book (excuse the somewhat self-righteous title) but also imparted great wisdom for those of us aspiring social entrepreneurs. His decision to leave a cushy Microsoft job to bring literacy to the developing world was more than just a whim. Anyone can write a check. He took what others would term tragic (a small school in Nepal with barely any books in its library) and saw an opportunity to change it. That takes guts, and I couldn’t help but admire him.

Then on Wednesday, I sat 6 inches away from this man. Not many people would get that excited over the head of the nation’s largest school district. But Joel Klein is like a celebrity to me. And his outrage at the state of the city’s dire education crisis wasn’t a lament, but a call to action. After he spoke, I wanted to stand up and scream ‘I will work for you!’ Too bad I didn’t have my resume handy.

And of course, whenever I get overwhelmed—by the burden of debt, the loneliness of student life, or the excruciating lack of sleep—I always like to read this: Steve Jobs famous commencement speech (made to the Stanford class of ’05). There’s this one section that comforts me, this tiny nugget of inspiration:

Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

It always makes me wet behind the eyes.

Heartbroken. But I Still Live For This.

2006-10-20T15:19:00.000-04:00

Mets v. Cardinals, game 7. it was the bottom of the ninth, 2 outs, bases loaded. the count was 0 and 2 and the batter was known for pulling out the Big Guns this postseason-- 7 homers already in 9 playoff games. could it be 8 tonite? will The Mets go to the World Series just like so many predicted they would? could there be a better way to commemerate the 20th anniversary of the LAST time The Mets won the World Series?

there was so much build-up, so much on the line. i could hear my heart beating outside of my chest even as other fans were chugging down cheap beer and chanting 'We Believe.' my stomach was in knots; my eyes half-covered in fear and hope. this is why i'm a sports fan. for moments such as this. that camraderie you share with strangers in those moments where Your Team is on the cusp of something possibly great? you can't fake that feeling, that shit is real. when Endy Chavez made the absolute most incredible catch at the top of the 6th inning, one that will be replayed for decades to come. Chavez was super-human, leaping to what seemed like a hundred feet off the ground, to just snag a ball heading outta-the-park. even miracles don't dream up plays that good. those of us at the bar, we cheered even at the replay. i could barely breathe afterwards. you really don't fake moments like that. after it happend, i thought it was fate...that The Mets were destined to get their dream.

but alas, i was wrong, and the dream died right at that last at bat. we were down by 2, at the bottom of the ninth, at the bottom of our batting order. hope returned when we got three batters on base (2 hits, one walk) and i thought we were writing our storybook ending when Carlos Beltran came up to bat-- he of the 7 homers. but it was not meant to be. in what felt like a million years but was barely a two seconds, the 0-2 count quickly turned into a crisp strikeout, sealing the end of what had seemed to be an Amazin' season. watching the Cardinals celebrate on our home turf? watching Paul Lo Duca's blank stare, Willie Randolph's head shake? it broke my heart. what does a fan do? well, I just start counting down the days till next season. as the saying goes...there's always next year.

Be Good.

2006-10-05T12:49:00.000-04:00

i have a crush. but not on a person, on a magazine. Good magazine, to be precise. it's goal is simple, yet bold: create a medium to discuss, debate, and demand knowledge on things that matter. what does that mean? well...it's a broad mission. pick up the magazine's premiere issue (September 2006) and you see the following statement staring back at you: _______ like you give a Damn. it's at once empowering and intimidating...wait, we get to fill in the blank? WE get a voice? oh yes we do. and that kinda sums up Good's concept. it asks its readers to be fearless, to take action, and give voice to the problems/ideas/passions that move us to do 'good' things. and what i really appreciate is its admission that being 'good' doesn't mean we have to reject the institutions that sometimes frustrate us, but to understand how to turn those barriers into opportunties.

Good offers an innovative approach, and its content and design reflects this. it's sorta like a hybrid of The Economist, Rolling Stone, and Wired but all with an eye towards social change and transparency. printed on recycled paper, the first page opens up to a Vision Statement, a visual piece that frames the theme of each issue. for the premiere: America, Love it or Fix it. pieces range from features on social entrepreneurs to editorials on urban life to a guide to the midterm elections, which includes stickers (stickers!) and a mix of cartoon-y artwork with edgy photographs. running on top of each page are a set of icons that act as content area guides--e.g. business, health, culture, living, etc. running on the bottom margin of each page are not just photo and story credits, but also website info for groups/people featured in each story.

the magazine is also philanthropic-- 100% of the $20 subscription fee (which buys you 6 issues) will go to one of twelve partner charities. and these charities range in causes from grassroots education groups (the amazing DonorsChoose) to established global organizations like The World Wildlife Fund. the number of subscribers and dollars raised is tracked in total and then disaggregated by each charity partner-- with a total goal of $1M, or 50,000 subscribers. and the magazine is filled with non-traditional ad buys all with messages towards the socially aware consumer.

so what are you waiting for? do some Good and subscribe.

It's Just TV, right?

2006-09-29T18:36:00.000-04:00

It’s pathetic, really. The most exciting thing that’s happened to me in the past 2 weeks is the start of the new television season. Oh yea. I do indeed live an interesting life. And as a full-time student, is there a better way to procrastinate than watching tv? Why yes. There’s surfing the net, reading blogs, cooking, window-shopping, drinking… I do all those things too. But nothing is as much fun as observing/reacting to other people’s (some real, some very much not real) extra-ordinary lives streaming before me on that big flat screen.

Highlights for me this week? Well definitely the latest installment of Project Runway. I’ve been obsessed since season 1 but this season has been STELLAR. Loads of drama, loads of bad taste (can we say, rosettes?), a bit of bitch slapping, and of course, the lovely Tim Gunn. If only we could all have mentors like The Gunn. And I'm happy with the Final Four and am ecstatic they all get a fair shot at winning the prize and showing at Fashion Week (for a sneak peak, there are photo stills of The Four’s twelve pieces available for the obsessed among us). Michael’s my favorite but I grew a soft spot for Laura after her breakdown. She isn’t a total Ice Queen. But oh how I miss Robert Best. He was labeled ‘boring’ by the judges but he had the funnest personality. I want to be his fag hag. Ha.

What else keeps me attached to the remote? The new season of The Office and Grey’s Anatomy. Love those shows. They are completely different but both make me laugh and cry and sometimes cringe (if you saw The Office’s brilliant season premiere, you know exactly what I mean). However, I really do dislike Meredith Grey. I know she’s supposed to be flawed and ‘relatable’—but I don’t think she’s all that. She’s whiny, and frankly, her boy problems? Choosing between McDreamy and a very grown-up Chris O’Donnell? Oh the dilemma….

New shows that have me setting my VCR? Justice on Fox gives me the Victor Garber fix I need to keep me going after Alias’ swan song last May. He’s no longer Spy Daddy…he’s Big Bad Lawyer Daddy. God, I love him. And it has Kerr Smith (aka Gay Jack from Dawson’s Creek). And the show’s episodic so you don’t really need to watch in sequence to figure out the premise (each week features a new trial/case). Another winner is the new ABC dramedy Ugly Betty. Sort of like The Devil Wears Prada, but there’s no magical transformation for the main character. She is who she is—and apparently, because she’s not lean and tall and blonde and has couture taste, she is labeled ‘ugly’—which is so offensive since America Ferrera is quite beautiful. Watch her in Real Woman Have Curves and try to disagree with me. Try. As Betty, Ferrara has an endearing on-screen presence that charms you in for the full-hour despite the show’s standard (and clichéd) storyline.

What's makes matter worse is now, with the quick evolution of interactive media, all the major networks are creating numerous ways for fans to extend their obsession beyond mere viewership. The Office, has special webisdoes that spotlight some of the more minor (yet brilliant) characters on the show. Other shows feature characters with their own blogs. Grey's Anatomy has an entire section dedicated to music used in each episode and enables fans to sample or download songs via iTunes. And if you're not home to watch a show (or don't own a Tivo like me), don't fret. In fact, don't even set your VCR. All you need is a little patience and access to a fast internet connection because each of the major networks are offering full-episode replays of their shows online 24 hours after airing. Great. Even MORE ways for me to procrastinate. I need to spice up my life real soon or else I'll never leave the house!

To D.C., With Love

2006-09-21T10:18:00.000-04:00

it's funny how you can think you're so completely committed to a city/job/person, then you walk away briefly, experience comfort/satsifaction/happiness from another perspective, and begin to wonder: perhaps committment is over-rated? heh.

a year ago, i didn't think i could ever consider living in another city. but as i approach my last year at grad school, i find myself with more than just career choices ahead of me, but city choices too. it's not that i no longer love New York, but my summer in D.C. did prove that its possible for me to make a home elsewhere. obviously, it also helps to have an amazing group of friends there that made adjustment to life outside of NYC that much more palatable.

now today is the last official day of summer. it certainly came and went waaaay too quickly. so i thought i should take pause, reflect on my summer experience, and send a little valentine to the city and my friends--particularly Y, J& R, Holly, JMc, EQ, and Sep-- for making the summer so much fun for me. hell, there were moments where i even forgot (gasp!) a bit about New York.

Some favorite moments and places:

The newly re-opened Smithsonian Museum of American Art & the National Portrait Gallery was a favorite destination of mine this summer. The historic building offers visitors a clean, unfettered experience-- brightly lit corridors, spacious viewing galleries that provides a 2-for-1 art deal. i especially loved the William Wegman 'Funny/Strange' exhibit. The man was more than just the guy who took the dog pictures.
Y and I dancing it up and falling in love with the lead singer of We Are Scientists, during their too-quick concert at The Black Cat. they're young. they're cute. they're sarcastic. basically, they're PERFECT. sigh.
Taking too many shots with my Grad School Gals in Adams Morgan. they made me feel like i was a 23 year old babe again...
Watching the lightning storm around the Capitol Building while picnicking with Y, Holly, and two J's. wait a minute. actually, we were there for D.C.'s Screen on the Green classic movie-fest. best part? that Holly brought wine in Perrier bottles (she was afraid we'd get caught by the alcohol-free police). did you know that one bottle of wine barely fills two bottles of perrier? well, its true. second best part of that nite? Bogie and Bacall.
Larry's Ice Cream. Man, I miss this. I think it was the only place I frequented more than three times. their unique flavors (especially the Cleopatra and the Fred & Ginger) are almost better than sex. I said almost.
Attempting to play frisbee at Burke Lake Park in VA with J&R. oh and Y. she may have a post-graduate degree, but girl can't toss a frisbee to save her life!
Running around in the heat (and I mean the HEAT!) of summer doing a D.C.-MD-VA scavenger hunt. yes, i said scavenger hunt. Y and I ran around the metro area with sixty odd other crazy 'young professionals' in an event sponsored by Things to Do D.C. Our team took the laid back approach. if by laid-back, you mean cut-throat competitive. I think I laughed when an opposing team person fell running up the Metro escalators. idiot.
Finally visiting Teddy Roosevelt Island. It's small! It's filled with trees! It's also named in honor of my favorite President. beautiful. but bring bug spray.
Exploring the amazing (but very un-free) Phillips Collection with Sep. She and I spent a couple of post-work hours marveling at the exquisite exhibit space, stood enamored by the famed Renoir in its permanent collection, and of course, barealy avoided total embarrassment when Sep nearly fell straight into a Klimt masterpiece. Good job Sep, good job.
And of course, enjoying the thrills of the suburbs. including shopping at the mall, eating at The Cheesecake Factory, matinee movies at less than ten dollars (!), downing cheap (but out-of-place) beers with Holly at roadside joint Hank Dietle's Tavern (a most random bar nestled between strip malls), and eating lots and lots of shaved ice smothered in condensed milk goodness at a local Taiwanese eatery. oooooh how i miss the shaved ice!

Laborious and Scandal-Free

2006-09-05T20:47:00.000-04:00

Sigh. Y visited this past holiday weekend and it was nothing like her last Labor Day visit to NYC two years ago. back then, we had enough crazy, scandalous stories to regale our friends with for at least a couple of hours. they included: a day at the US Open fraught with underlying friendship tensions (between Y and her other friend, not between the two of us), a night out drinking too much Belgian beer where Y almost ruined one of her other friend's relationships (all's well now) before she and the aforementioned 'tension' friend spewed out their issues all nite long--crying like little girls on my sofa bed (awesome for me), and then a final evening of true debauchery where after much food and alcohol, we ended up ensconced in a bachelor party filled with drunk 'cowboys' ready to get it on. there was dancing. there were shots. there was a near-miss double hook-up, two seperate cab rides back to my apt, and much laughing about our stupidity as dawn was breaking. oh it was awesome.

this time? well, let's just say this time was different. here's how the weekend played out:

Friday: Y and I indulged in a 2-for-1 martini special. We started at 5pm. uh-huh. By 7 pm we were...well drunkity drunk. we even ran around Anthropologie in a drunken fury before imbibing in one more cocktail at Rockefeller Center where we were loud. Most scandalous part of the nite? that we were home in bed by 9:30 PM!!!! OMG. pathetic doesn't BEGIN to describe it. oh and the pictures of us sucking on hot peppers at a korean restaurant. pseudo-scandalous. i'm reaching here. rock on.

Saturday: we shopped in the rain. that basically sums up our day. Most scandalous part? that we went to bloomingdales with coupons in hand and came back EMPTY HANDED. this story gets sadder...

Sunday: desperate to score tix to the absolute last performance of Mother Courage and her Children, the Shakespeare in the Park production at Central Park. Meryl Streep was in it and it was certainly the hottest (free) ticket in town. however, free translates to getting up butt early to wait on line for tickets (they're limited). Most scandalous part of the night? that we woke up at effen 3 am (yes, that's A.M.) to haul our tired old asses to the park. and when we got there, we weren't even the first ones on line-- i believe we were numbers 27 and 28. craziness. Second most scandalous part of that day? we waited nine friggin hours, sprawled out on damp mulch right outside the theater. oh yea. it rocked. luckily, Meryl was amazing and didn't disappoint.

Monday: finally we were rewarded with a gorgeous day. perfect for our day at the U.S. Open. YAY! and added bonus-- we had a great schedule of tennis on tap including a match i termed 'hotness vs. hotness'-- robby ginepri v. tommy haas. robbie crashed and burned in the fifth set but his biceps didn't disappoint. sigh. Most scandalous part of the day? that U.S. Open security confiscated my $12 can of sunscreen. dude. the drama. its too much no?

So i guess the bottom line is that we're getting old. which means we've become boring. depressing but perhaps inevitable. i mean, my liver and little black book can only take so much, right? right. snooze...

Poolside

2006-08-24T13:20:00.000-04:00

On a perfect summer day like yesterday, what's better than sitting poolside? How about inside a pool...a former community pool that when it was functioning, held nearly 8,000 swimming bodies in it? uh...ew. and wha? that's exactly what i thought as I was heading towards McCarren Park Pool, which this summer, has been re-fashioned as THE HIP and happening outdoor venue for hip and happening greenpoint, brooklyn. you enter through a large, worn brick structure before you come face-to-face with the Gi-NORMOUS (and un-filled) skeleton of a pool. the inside is all chipped concrete lined with plenty of graffitti art. it really is HUGE. supposedly on weekends, they have free 'pool parties' which includes live DJs, loads of sweaty dancing bodies, and a slip 'n slide-- i MUST get myself to one of these...

i was at McCarren Pool for one reason only: The Shins. to say i was excited would be an understatement. yeppers. they are definitely one of my most favorite bands i wouldn't miss a chance to see them live. here, the audience sits INSIDE the pool-- you can bring blankets to picnic but there's also brooklyn brewery beers and burgers and dogs for sale to munch on. and, this place is seriously hipster heaven. W kept egging me on to admit that yes, 4 out of 5 guys attending the event would qualify as 'my type.' perhaps he's right...but they all seemed either VERY young or VERY taken or (possibly) VERY gay. sigh.

The Shins, on the otherhand, sounded great (although the acoustics are iffy--it can get REALLY loud). fortunately, The Shins are pretty mellow-- although the boys totally rocked out on some of their tunes, which included a few new tracks from their upcoming album (they promised it will be out by very very early 2007). James Mercer, the lead singer, is sparse with the audience chatter (read: he doesn't chat), saving his unique, beautiful voice for singing only. a souped of version of my personal favorite 'Gone for Good' gave the anti-love song a different edge. And an almost elegiac, rendition of 'Young Pilgrims,' which Mercer sang alone under a single spotlight, was haunting. now the funniest part of their set-- while singing their hit 'New Slang'-- i could tell Mercer looked distracted and almost confused...in fact, he had to stop because he lost track of the lyrics. laughing it off and attempting a re-do, he stopped again, this time cracking up and asking if someone would just come up and sing it. it seems, post-Garden State fame, he can't seem to recall the lyrics to a track he's been forced to play a bajillion times. W and I started calling out Natalie (as in Portman's) name to see if she could help fill in the gaps. there was no answer. The Shins, of course, redeemed themselves with a proper re-do during their encore. me suspects they went back to review the lyrics...haha.

What a Wonderful Town!

2006-08-21T23:50:00.000-04:00

Today was my first full day back in Manhattan in weeks—WEEKS! And to think I had so much fun this summer in our nation’s capital that I almost forgot the big and little details that underline my love for this city. New York is not for everyone—it just isn’t. It’s smelly, dirty, crowded, and noisy. But it’s also dynamic, diverse, strong, and energizing. And it teaches you to walk fast. I am most definitely a fast walker.

So today, after six hours locked inside a court room doing my civic duty (ah jury duty…), I went out for a long walk—from downtown up through Chelsea, sweating out my thoughts and re-tracing the reasons that make New York so special…five favorites from an un-countable list of favorites:

1. The Chrysler Building
It’s the one thing I look for in the skyline when I approach the city from the N.J. Turnpike…not the Empire State Building…but the Chrysler. Its beautiful art-deco exterior is classic and unique in a city packed with skyscrapers that often lack character. In my first NY apartment, I had a direct view of the Chrysler building right out my kitchen window. Wish I spent more time appreciating that view…

2. Hudson River
Yes, one of the rivers is prettier. Sorry, but the East River is ugly whereas the Hudson, drenched with sun, shimmers. Sure, I may not want to swim in it (though some do) but I do enjoy looking at it, especially when you walk along the recently re-furbished esplanade that curves round Lower Manhattan and up towards midtown, where there’s ample grassy spots to lay out on, numerous recreational facilities (including an awesome set of tennis courts by Canal Street) and modernized piers to walk out to…

3. West Village
This will always be my favorite NY neighborhood. When you’re here, you don’t realize you’re in a big city…instead, you get lost down winding streets lined with old brownstones where sometimes the addresses count in half increments…

4. Central Park
The center of Manhattan—without the park, the city loses its heart, its essence. I love sitting out on a bench drinking coffee and reading the paper on a Sunday…or picnicking with friends at one of the summer’s many cultural activities on the Great Lawn…or just plain people watching (aka trolling for hot men with their shirts off playing frisbee) at Sheep’s Meadow. wander to the park’s northern regions, and you find truly quiet sections made for solitary reflection (like the Conservatory Gardens i stumbled upon last summer).

5. The Mets
Nothing connects you to a city like a sports team. And The Mets are my sports team. First thing I did when I got back to NYC? Go to a Mets game. Whether they’re in contention or breaking your heart cuz they’re sucking so bad…I stick by my team.

With Gratitude, and a reason to Stand Up!

2006-08-15T22:41:00.000-04:00

Last days are often bittersweet, but in my past few professional experiences the balance always tilted more heavily towards the bitter. so today, my last at a summer fellowship i never thought i'd ever get, it is so refreshing to exit with a smile, a twinge of sadness for the people who've been so great to me, and next to no regrets. this was my first job inside an urban public school system-- one with well-publicized challenges-- and it has reinforced my goal to work in this sector.

after witnessing the dilapidated conditions of many of the system's school buildings, i became fully aware of and grateful for the resources that made my public school experience so very different. the link between the quality of a school facility and the academic experience of a student is stronger than i ever realized. it was humbling, but also inspiring--there is so much opportunity, so much that needs to be done. how do we ensure that today's and future generations of students get the quality education they deserve? i truly believe its the civil rights issue of our time.

so even though i often vented about the sketch-factor associated with my daily walk to work (um...large abandoned field, the railroad tracks, the gross construction workers, and the possible drug den across from my building-- it all spelled 'potential crime scene') and complained about my garden level office (read: no windows, poor ventilation, and bugs!)--nothing could be more valuable than having an insider's view of an public system famous for its dysfunction. there is much complexity involved with designing, building, operating, and maintaining school buildings...and despite my preconceived notions, there are no easy solutions. the media will say that the system does not have the will to fix itself. but after working there alongside those responsible for the fixing...i contend that the will exists, but the means to do so are not always there. so with that, a way for others to learn more and possibly, to help ensure there will be a movement to bring resources to some of these important issues:

Standup.org is a coalition sponsored by the The Gates Foundation and The Broad Foundation to generate national awareness about America's high school graduation crisis. if you look at the numbers, you'd worry more about our future as well...

It's Not About the City Stupid

2006-07-19T08:47:00.001-04:00

With barely a blink of the eye, my summer in D.C. is more than halfway over. It would be a lie to say that when I arrived here more than six weeks ago, I wasn’t a little anxious. I worried about whether the amazing professional opportunity that sent me here would put a dent into my above average personal life. Maybe it was a little dramatic (but when am I not?), but I couldn’t imagine my life, much less my summer, not being in New York City—a place I’ve called home for the past seven years.

But then, is my love affair with NYC idealized? Or is much of my enjoyment of The City linked to the extensive network of friends I’ve built there over the years? Well, the answers are no and yes. Having witnessed a national tragedy, endured an on-subway assault, and experienced the New York through Blackouts, snow storms, and torrential downpour…I can honestly say that my adoration is not soaked with even a drop of naiveté. That was lost years ago when I was stuck within the caverns of downtown Manhattan, debris raining over me. That day, September 11, taught me the true meaning of the word precious. It is, after all, not the city that saves you or hurts you or makes you laugh—it’s the people that surround you who reinforce that connection. So upon greater reflection, my love for NYC has less to do with the city and more to do with the people that make both the good and bad days worth enduring.

And for that, D.C. has been great to me. I arrived and immediately had a network of friends to plug into. If I was sent somewhere else—say Denver or San Francisco—I am sure that I would be very lonely, no matter how incredible the job may be, or what amazing things those cities may offer. I feel so fortunate to have the chance to re-connect with old friends, strengthen relationships with somewhat newer ones, and explore a city that is both familiar and new to me. It’s been a wonderful, yet rare opportunity. And it makes for a more complicated situation because I often feel stuck between two worlds—the one waiting for me in New York and the one that is here, happening now in D.C. I can’t say which one I prefer or which one is better. That choice is no longer just about the city, but is more about the friends. And with that, I plead the fifth.

In Pursuit

2006-06-15T23:45:00.000-04:00

When I was twelve years old, my dream job was to be a corporate executive. That’s it. I had no idea what that actually meant but I thought Working Girl was a kick ass movie. And I thought having a big corner office in NYC sounded glamorous. And besides, if Melanie Griffith can make it big on Wall Street with her Betty Boop voice, then surely I had a shot. Sing it, Carly Simon, SING IT!

Unlike my other friends who wanted to be doctors or lawyers or engineers…I wasn’t really passionate about one specific thing. The problem was, I liked a lot of things and even excelled at some of them. But there was no singular passion I could point to, directing me towards a clear career path. So I arbitrarily selected business and afterfinishing college, headed straight towards the corporate path. Along the way, I got some great projects, met some amazing mentors and friends, and learned how to put together really awesome power point presentations.

But something happened that messed up my plans. My first summer in the city, I started volunteering with public school students. My motives were selfish—it was a way to morally compensate for my accelerating yuppy hedonism. “Hey”, I thought, “I’m giving back to those in need! Look at what a good person I am!” I was such an asshole. And worse, the experiences with the students inside the classroom revealed what a spoiled brat I really was. Kids in the city were given the short stick--schools were overcrowded, undersupplied, and filled with disengaged principals and teachers. I was floored. No one told me my public school education was a luxury good. I guess I was too ignorant to ever consider it something so valuable.

A fire was lit inside me. I got more involved in public school projects, researched school performance statistics just for the sake of it, and attended talks about education reform. The issues plaguing the urban education system were infinite and complex, but with each unveiling of a problem also provided an opportunity for change—I wanted to help fix things, I wanted to be a part of this movement to improve our schools. This got my adrenaline pumping. Climbing the corporate ladder losts its appeal and gave way to a "hobby" that was slowling taking over my life.

For me, the blatant inequity that exist in city schools is plain disrespectful. Recognizing this allowed me to also recognize my passion to work in this world. I wasn’t prepared to take this leap and make such an extreme change, and believe me, neither were my parents (I recall their reaction being a big-- WHA?!?!??!). But I finally found something that got me out of bed in the morning; I finally found something specific to focus on.

And now, I'm pursuing something I never thought I’d be doing when I was twelve: living in a city that’s not New York (temporarily) and working inside one of the country’s most dysfunctional school systems. The work is hard because the outcomes are real. I’m scared shitless that I’ll make mistakes which I'll inevitably end up making. I wake up every day worrying about the impact of my decisions. And mostly, I wonder if I’ll live to see a change in the right direction. One thing I do know, I don’t wake up wondering what I want to do anymore. This is my dream. And if there’s anything I’ve learned about dream jobs is that you should never confuse them with things you see in the movies, never expect them to be glamorous. Instead, measure them in terms of personal satisfaction. That is what will make the difference.

Miami Vice

2006-05-22T23:02:00.000-04:00

Just got back from a much needed getaway to Miami with Y—it was loverly. We planned the mini-vacay back when I was neck-deep in school work and she was drowning in whatever shitty water work she does for a living. The point is, we were due for some R&R and thought a sunny locale would do the trick. And dude were we lucky—Miami had just gone through a stretch of rainy weather…until we arrived! Clear blue skies, low 80s, and just bearable humidity. Sigh…

Besides sunning and eating and drinking a few cocktails, our trip also taught us the following:

1. Why did the Alligator cross the empty bike path?...
…uh…to leave large logs of their white shit in our way as we biked through the Everglades? Oh, and to scare the crap out of us? Yep, Y and I powered through an early morning wake-up (7am! Is this really vacation?!?!) and endured the blazing South Florida sun to take an airboat ride, marvel over lengthy alligators, and bike up and down a seven mile path through the muddy sea grass. We’d stop for water breaks and freak out every time we heard the grass rustle, worrying that a gator would emerge and eat us alive. Seriously.

2. Screaming will not prevent bugs from attacking you
in true drama queen fashion, Y and I screamed like little bitches (okay, I screamed more…but she’s loud too) every time bugs flew into our faces while biking. Which means we screamed the entire fourteen mile trip. Best Time Ever. Too bad no one heard us…or did they?

3. The best deals are those not found in tour books
My two biggest vices: alcohol and food. Nothing is better than a cocktail…and nothing sounds less pleasant than a diet. So what’s a better treat than free drinks and cheap food?

Our first nite, Y and I ventured far away from the South Beach club scene and instead went to Purdy Lounge, a local lounge that’s more hipster New York than balmy Miami. We were so lucky to get there on a Thursday nite—Ladies Nite—chicks can get cosmos, apple martinis and well drinks for free. Y and I were confused when the bartender didn’t ask for money. But we weren’t going to argue with him…instead, we tried to down as much as we could before midnight.

Starved and exhausted after our Everglade bike ride, Y and I desperately needed to refuel with food. En route back to Miami, we looked for eateries using our highly sophisticated criteria: (1) Is it a restaurant? and (2) are there cars in the parking lot? We’re easy gals. A random seafood place right off the main road satisfied both points--The Fish Market. We walked in looking gorgeous—all sticky with sweat and smelling like gator poo—but who knew we’d step into a happy hour that already started (it was barely 2pm!) where we could down $3 draft beers and get a dozen oysters or ten wings for $4. I love Florida. And even better, I loved our deliciously hot waiter.

My favorite find of all—our pit stop at a local bakery (Don Pan, was it?) where we gorged on dulce de leche pastries. This was a mere 15 minutes after the aforementioned happy hour of oysters and wings. We are such pigs. Seriously, if I didn’t have to put on a bathing suit later that day, I would have eaten an entire box full of pastries. Oink.

4. We don’t like boobs with our breakfast.
Why do women enjoy nude sunbathing? No tan lines may be an incentive but…aren’t certain areas a little...sensitive? And is it really appropriate to flash your boobs when children are around? I dunno. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer to flash someone after the sun goes down and only when coerced into a wet t-shirt contest. Not that that has ever happened…or has it?

5. Our scandalous days may be behind us
The closest Y and I came to drunken debauchery was when she hit me in the face with the TV remote after we returned to our room from a rich and indulgent meal at Talula (go and get their cucumber mojito, yum!). Unfortunately, Y got noticeably tipsy earlier that evening after our 2-for-1 drink special at the hotel. That’s one drink for me, one drink for her. If you’re following, that means Y got drunk after ONE DRINK. Pathetic. What happened to the tolerance we built from our college binging days? Alas, I fear those days are gone. So are the nights of drinking till 4 am and sloppily hooking up with random guys who we may or may not take home with us. Good times, good times. I guess we’ve matured (just barely) to a point where a few laid back cocktails and good conversation is just as much fun…or maybe we're just getting old and lame.

Oh how I love getaways…I'm already dreaming about by next one…sigh…

Pretty and Pretty Funny: The Whitney Biennial 2006

2006-05-17T22:45:00.000-04:00

I am not an art aficionado—far from it. My list of “favorite” artists reads like a who’s who on the shelves of standard and obvious: Monet, Rodin, Chagall, Gaguin, Hopper, and Homer. It’s uncreative, un-edgy, and very un-modern. And yet every two years, I make my way to an unspectacular section of Madison Ave (unless of course, you have spare cash to drop at Kors or Cavalli) with the wannabe progressive masses to partake in the Whitney Museum’s Biennial Exhibition, a roundup of what matters NOW in contemporary art.

Biennial 2006’s theme was a riff off a Francois Truffaut film “Day to Night.” I’ve never seen it but am fairly certain 80% of New York’s arty, anti-Establishment filmmaker wannabes feign reverence to Truffaut. His film demonstrates how special filters are used to create night scenes that are shot during the day. I read that off the entrance to the exhibition. My first thought: I get it. It’s a metaphor! OMG, art is about manipulation! No Effen WAY!

Forgive me my bitterness and sarcasm. But sometimes art is pretty…and sometimes art is pretentious. There's a reason the stereotype exists. I guess I tend to find things like…oh, say…a blank canvas less profound and more profoundly lazy. Let me guess, that’s supposed to represent the emptiness in our culture? What. Ever.

Nonetheless, I navigated the exhibition’s varied offering--paintings, sculpture, photography, mixed-media installations, and what not--looking for that fine line between pretty and pretty absurd.

Things I found pretty:

--Graphite drawings and watercolors by Jennie Smith: I can’t forget Smith’s simple and exquisitely delicate renderings of animals patterned into their various natural habitats. I lingered on these drawings, teasing out the subliminal messages tangled in her details, gently imploring for ecological collaboration and social change.It's a daring demand bathed in subtle tones. And to think that Smith is barely 25 years old. I felt inadequate while admiring her work.

--Florian Maier-Aichen’s photographs of the Los Angeles landscape which he imbues with bold washes of reds and blues, making the pictures pop in such a beautiful way, I couldn’t ignore it.

--Paul Chan’s elegiac digital animation of falling and rising images projected diagonally onto the floor of a darkened room. Listening to the audio commentary, the Whitney’s curators warned that Chan’s piece invoked memories of 9/11—while ordinary objects (like a bicycle) ascend up into the sky, shadowy bodies drop quickly downwards...giving me chills.

Audio commentaries are awesome. They don't just give voice to the artists and curators behind the pieces...but provide ample material for which I can mock and laugh at. Listening to their lengthy and sometimes crazy confusing explanations, I couldn't help but smirk...on the outside.

Things I found pretty funny:

--Urs Fischer's installation of torn down walls were...well, they were literally Torn Down Walls. um...if the Whitney wanted someone to go ape shit in its space, I would have been happy to come in and wreck a few walls. It would have been great stress relief. But no...I am not an artist. These walls provided a broken perimeter for Fisher's centerpiece display: two metal rods with a candle flickering on one end, rotating at a measured pace so that the dripping wax formed thick circles on the floor. hmmm...interesting. it just made me wanna test the security guard and blow those candles out.

--Sheep. Recorded eating on a grassy expanse by the water. Sheep. that's it. that's all it was and that's all I have to say. its mean that I laughed, yes...because the artist was sooooooo earnest in his commentary, explaining the wonderful coincidence of seeing the sheep and the spontaneity of grabbing his video camera to film them, non-coercively. Just filming the sheep doing their thing. Dude...what do i need to do to get a video in the Whitney? Film me, doing nothing. okay, wait...scratch that...that came out wrong.

And speaking of wrong...one artist, I can't remember her name...but she painted a "sculpture box" cartoonishly depicting two naked people engaged in sex. There's a big hard penis and everything. But the woman's head is removed and replaced with a video of the artist's face...stimulating herself. um, yeah. i wouldn't have known that if i didn't listen to her commentary because the video was fuzzy and muted. but now that i do know, i found it highly irresponsible to see parents showing their children this video, even pointing out the penis and the cooch. call me old-fashioned, but a seven year old does NOT need to know what a clitoris is. and yes, i did hear a mother explain that to her child. NYC parents are waaaaaaaayyy too hip for me.

The biennial closes really soon (May 28) so get to it if you want a few hours of hilarious confusion mixed with a few minutes of true insight.

De-coded. Finally.

2006-05-15T15:50:00.000-04:00

I JUST finished reading Da Vinci Code. I know. I am SOOOOO behind. Crazily enough, I successfully sheltered myself from all things Code-like the past few years. I’m that stupid girl who screams like a little bitch whenever someone attempted to reveal a slight plot point. I even hid behind my coat and plugged my ears really tight during trailers for the movie. The thing is, I friggin hate hardcover books (I only made exceptions for Harry Potter, and even then, I wouldn’t buy the book) and the stupid publishing company milked the book’s success for its every penny by waiting until late March 2006 (that’s three years AFTER the book was officially went to press) to release not one, but TWO paperback versions. One is larger and the other is thicker. I’m talking about books here.

It wasn’t easy to achieve blissful ignorance. Especially the last few months with the publicity machine spewing endless trailers, interviews, and debates leading up to the movie’s upcoming release. But it worked. I read the whole thing cover to cover without a true inkling of what would go down (although, c’mon! some plot points were predictable). And although I found Dan Brown’s writing style to be laughable and highly un-literary…it was still a DAMN GOOD READ. Great pacing, amazing details, clever twists. And I loved that for better or worse (who knows how “factual” the facts were), I learned so much about history, religion, and art. So now, with the book’s fine points still fresh in my head, I’m hoping that Opie, Tom, and Audrey don’t screw things up. No pressure.

Running on Empty / My id has left the building...

2006-05-09T16:25:00.000-04:00

Today I woke up and had no clue what day it was. Heavy with allergies, I peeled open my eyes and turned to face the hint of sun peeking from behind my window shades, anxious to fill my room and remind me of the mess of clothes and papers and tissues amassed around me. Who am I and what have I become?

Apparently, the final weeks of my first year at grad school blindsided me. I walked around pretending to be a functioning human being—I mean, I took an exam, wrote three papers, and gave a presentation on some pretty complicated statistical analysis in a run of six straight days. I even recall having a stress-cooling cocktail at one point, easing my mind from the burden of expectations that stem from my own silly quest for perfection. But when did the weeks blur together? When did my subconscious stop dreaming up manifestations of my school stress and instead take direction from Tarantino?--Seriously, I had five straight nights of dreams where the body count rivaled both parts of Kill Bill. Fortunately, none of the “victims” were real life people. At least, not from my life.

The things is, I thought my mind would eventually break down and reach an impasse-- refusing to type, read, calculate, graph, and analyze anything else ever again. I just thought that would happen when I was filling out my AARP membership. Renewal. Ah well.

Bodies of Knowledge, Bodies Exposed

2006-04-23T00:51:00.000-04:00

I haven’t taken a legitimate science class since my senior year in high school. That’s more than ten years people. Needless to say, it’s not my primary interest area. I nerd out when it comes to literature (classic and contemporary), am an avid history buff (albeit, mostly good ol’ American History), and genuinely enjoy the study of government, policy, and social sciences (thank goodness, that’s why I gave up earning a good salary—to study that shit!). But science? Let’s just say I still squirm at the sight of blood…in the movies! My parents used to say I had a mental block against the subject area—as if I purposely built a wall to force out any ounce of comprehension of all things scientific. And to think, I’m the daughter of both an engineer and biochemistry major! All those genes went straight to my bro—he’s pursuing his PhD in some engineering-something-or-another as we speak.

But years away from the textbooks and laboratories, Science has finally become fascinating to me. The evolution of a disease, the physiological miracle that composes every breath we inhale, the exact mixture of elements that allows something to taste/smell/look that very specific way—it’s captivating. Though I lack the actual expertise, I no longer lack the appreciation for it.

Science after all, is really just a story—telling us about who we are and the world we live in. The twist is that the story constantly shifts and develops--there are no fixed endings as advances in technology allow for narrative manipulation, which of course opens the door for new debates. For example: If a doctor takes drops of our blood, or scrapes from our skin—do we still own the right to those parts that are now removed? That was the question posed by a recent NY Times Magazine cover story, featuring the growing bioethical debate on whether individuals have legal domain over their own tissue samples. When a doctor takes pieces of your tissue for research and then finds an innovative medical treatment based on that sample— who should be the beneficiaries of that discovery? The doctor only or does the original tissue owner have rights to them as well—whether they are pecuniary rewards or not?

Whichever side you fall on, there is no denying that a gray area will always persist. Growing up in the U.S., we’re taught to believe that our bodies are precious, that our minds are unique—it’s the underlying definition of American Individualism. So when you put your body on display, donating pieces or the whole of it to art or science or whatever research purpose—that’s a decision that is all your own, right? Well, it depends.

And that’s the back-story behind the groundbreaking Bodies: The Exhibition. A few weeks ago, I apprehensively attended this with a few friends. On a conceptual level, I was really curious…but my former science-hating-self grew anxious at losing my lunch while scrutinizing the peeled-back details of these formerly living mannequins.

The exhibit is more than just a biology lesson, but literally an insider’s view into the complexity that goes on underneath all of us. These specimens underwent a special preservation process that allowed their muscles and bones to be more malleable, allowing them to be positioned in various stances—from the Thinker’s Pose to the stretch maintained by an athlete pitching a fastball. The exhibit divides itself into key functional sections—examining the anatomical underpinnings behind each of our life processes (e.g. nervous, digestive, reproductive, et. al). The specimens are then “cut” in ways to highlight each observed process—for example, a brain opening reveals where memory is stored; the spine is sliced through to present the many nerves running up and down it. Visitors can also compare/contrast healthy organs with diseased ones—such as a healthy lung to one blackened with years of smoking. I, for one, could not suppress my shock at the size of an enlarged liver, and regretted that extra vodka tonic I imbibed the night before.

For me, the section on the circulatory system was most enjoyable: you enter a darkened room where highways of blood vessels and veins sat in free-standing liquid boxes, hauntingly lit. Isolating the veins and arteries away from the distraction of muscles, bones, organs and other parts—I quickly understood the beauty and fragility hidden in each tiny capillary and felt sad for all my bruises--present, past, and future.

The exhibit’s final room will probably be one of its most controversial —an examination of fetuses in differing stages of development. My heart hurt at the sight of seeing one at 4 weeks old, and yet I proceeded to review each one. Upon exiting, one friend brought up an even more controversial aspect of the displays—apparently the sourcing of these bodies came from Chinese prisoners. We wondered aloud: was consent acquired from these men and women? Did they know their bodies would be carved like meat, splayed out for the masses to see? Something tells us not. I left with a bigger lump in my throat.

Three Long Sighs...and then, Spring

2006-04-02T18:42:00.000-04:00

The cold season doesn't fare well for cynical sentimentalists like me. I’m a warm weather girl who longs for longer days and only enjoys winter for its gifts of snow (because it’s so lovely) and its stretch of holidays (because even Scrooge couldn’t resist Christmas). But Spring is like a forgotten dream, especially for New Yorkers like me who’ve endured several years of zero transition time between a Winter’s bleak and a Summer’s humid.

Today though, today was Spring. It was one of those days that just demanded your attention-- shimmering with a warmth and brightness that was so magnetic, even flowers came out from winter hiding. Out for a walk, I felt as if I was trapped in someone else's moment, someone else's sketches of the Perfect Day, where the sky was that precise shade of blue--painted on without the blemish of a cloud. But me, I paid no mind to this rare moment, this treat from nature. Despite losing an hour, I still carved out time to be sad.

It wasn’t like I was sad about anything in particular. It was just about everything in general. Leave it to me to use a solitary Sunday as an excuse to soak in my own self-loathing. Pausing at one of my favorite local spots, this section of benches and greenery outside the Natural History Museum, I stood beneath the shadow of the Planetarium as the strains of Bob Dylan’s "You're A Big Girl Now" whispered in my ear :

A change in the weather is known to be extreme
But what's the
sense of changing horses in midstream?
I'm going out of my
mind, oh, oh,
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a
corkscrew to my heart
Ever since we've been apart.

when i was little, i believed in fairytales. i believed that happily ever after was truly the ending to all stories. and that things always worked out because I didn't know any better. years later, scarred by the realities that naturally comes with becoming adults, i've learned that Real Life is not so neat and tidy. We're all complicated packages with no simple solutions. And that while one part of our lives may be exceeding all expectations, another part may very well be falling to pieces.

my patch of sadness was one of those temporary moments of mismatched fortunes. on one hand, i'm successfully pursuing my goals, getting what I've hoped for in my professional life. but then i round a corner, and my heart is being broken by someone that was never suppose to matter in the first place. it's a trick of fate, a twist in the story. and it leaves me both bewildered and disturbed. is there a lesson i'm suppose to learn? will things ever balance out?

and before there are any answers offered up, a stream of sunlight cuts into my thoughts and suddenly i saw the world around me: rows of daffodils blooming from all corners, children squealing and chasing down birds, couples walking hand in hand. this was not someone else's day but a moment that was all my own. i took three long sighs, exhaling out my melancholy and taking in the beauty of my own imperfect situation. it was finally Spring. so i went and bought myself flowers.

Rhapsodic!

2006-03-28T23:52:00.000-05:00

Romance comes in many forms. Sometimes it surprises you, sometimes you can’t put your finger on it…and sometimes you’d rather avoid it and just walk the other way--declaring it cheesy, vomit-inducing…or gasp!...nonexistent. But even the most skeptical among us (myself included) fall victim to that flutter of whimsy, that welling of warmth that allows us to believe--if only for an instant--that the world is perfect and that love is actually possible.

Excuse me. But I’m making myself sick.

In spite of my current predicament of stalled romantic opportunities (some days, I term it “I-Will-Be-Alone-Forever”), I am still easily seduced by that jazzy symphonic ode to romantic nostalgia: Gershwin's An American in Paris. Ever since my friend A and I attended this concert , I can't rid myself from visions of Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron, dancing their wistful pas de deux under the starry glow of a Paris dreamscape. To me, romance should sound like a Gershwin composition. Its confluence of brass and strings-- complicated rhythms, long notes held by a lone saxaphone, violins swelling to a rapturous crescendo-- casts a spell that's irresistable. Even the anti-romantics can't help but be moved.

In a packed concert hall last Sunday afternoon, One World Symphony, a community orchestra based here in NYC, performed not just Paris, but also Gershwin's classic (and one of my all-time favorite pieces) Rhapsody in Blue. No matter how often I listen to it, hearing it performed live is still thrilling. I'd love to learn to play it one day. And between the Gershwin masterpieces, they performed a series of works from another love-erly classic: Leonard Bernstein's West Side Story. Yes, we know how that one goes. Boy meets Girl and both love and tragedy ensue. This day, the focus was just on the love part. And yes, the song lyrics can be heavy on the fromage (A and I mock-sang the roles of Tony and Maria during intermission, people were probably staring) but the orchestra's conductor was pumped up, and got the audience involved by having us shout "Mambo!" during the hyperkinetic Latin dance sequences. It was awesome. The I-want-to-get-up-and-shake-my-hips kind of awesome.

When it was all over, right as the applause died down, the conductor-- all shifty nerves in his rigid military tux-- faced the audience and began inarticulately waxing poetic about the music...the dedication of his musicians...the orchestra's founding member who made this all happen...and then got on bended knee and proposed to his girlfriend (she's the founding member!) who was sitting up in the balcony. the audience whooped, tears were flowing, and an embrace was had on center stage. me? i was ready to fall in love. too bad Real Life doesn't play like a Gershwin tune.

Warning Labels

2006-03-14T10:36:00.000-05:00

They appear on prescription drugs, shouldn’t people come with warning labels as well? Especially when it comes to dating, no one wants to be a cautionary tale--the fear of physical harm is enough to justify signs that scream in neon lights-- “Convicted Criminal Ahead!!!” or “Beware! This guy has Syphilis!!!” But isn’t it just as important to provide indicators for potential emotional damage? We'd all fare better in the dating game if we're given notices like the following: “Boring Person, May Cause Drowsiness” or “Player: This Man is Best Taken for Casual Flings Only.” Recently, I could have used one that read like this: “Emotional Baggage Ahead. Proceed with Extreme Caution. Screwing with your Mind WILL OCCUR.”

The advent of Google, Friendster, and Myspace makes information gathering on a potential suitor not just a mouse-click away, but almost a de facto requirement for the world-weary dater (some may call this stalking, but that’s neither here nor there). Despite all this, isn’t it still the unknown and the undiscovered that pushes even the most hardened cynic of us to continue to put ourselves out there and risk the chance of heartbreak? Doesn’t getting all the information up front ruin the whole “mystery” that makes dating both fun and frustrating?

Well, I’m beginning to wonder if mystery is over-rated. I’ve been in various states of single and not-so-singleness over the past seven years, and every time I think I’ve acquired enough dating experience to not repeat past mistakes, I always get proven wrong. It’s as if years of falling for the wrong guys or screwing over the nice ones have made me less able to trust my own instinct. And frankly, I’m tired. I’m exhausted from the romantic beat-downs, the reduced expectations, and the inevitable disappointments. So I’m asking for help, guidance from a higher source. One that will warn me on Day 1 if a guy is commitment-phobic or a potential cheater or will be bad in bed. And if the same is demanded in return, well then let me just lay it all out there: Warning! I’m loud and have an obnoxious laugh and I’m relentlessly cynical and can’t go an hour without sarcasm. I’m scared of settling and getting hurt and being alone but I am willing to give anyone a try as long he’s honest. There. That’s MY warning. Pursue at your own risk.

P is for Productive?...

2006-03-09T20:59:00.000-05:00

…Or in my case, Procrastination. I don’t know what it is about ME or my character or my general sense of dissatisfaction with everything. currently, I have zero desire to do the work that I’m paid to do. Today, at my job/internship, I paid bills, caught up on my NY Times reading, researched airfares for warm weather destinations, reviewed the annual report of two organizations I’d rather be working at, and mapped out weekend plans. Good to know that your public dollars are going to such a worthy cause, eh? I did spend a solid hour on a presentation for my boss…I was so proud of myself, I was ready to give myself a Gold Star for my efforts. Yay me.

Oscars' Eve

2006-03-04T21:37:00.000-05:00

finally emerging from my flu-induced seclusion, i breathed in nyc air again today as if it was the first time, and declared it: "Fresh!" yes, i MUST have been sick. but man does it feel good to live like a normal person and not like the zombie shuffling through my apartment the past five days. and what great timing as the Oscars are on tomorrow! yay! admittedly, i really enjoy all the razzle dazzle, glitzy glamour and overly inflated glory attributed to that oh-so-not-so-world-changing event that will be the 78th Annual Academy Awards. it's all fluff, and yet, for three hours, it's taken very very seriously. but really, the bonus this year is that the show will be hosted by one of my major crushes-- Mr. Jon Stewart. can we get a triple sigh? sigh sigh sigh...

there's a running "joke" with my annual group of oscar-watching buddies that they should just hand me over their $$$ for the oscar pool because i always win. well, always is an over-statement. but i do think i have an 80% win rate. and i'm hoping it'll tilt again in my favor this year...as i am a poor grad student. so. instead of revealing my picks on who will win, i'm just gonna share some personal favorites on who i hope will be honored come tomorrow nite:

Best Director, Ang Lee
oh how i want him to win. i've seen six of his nine films-- from the sumptuous feast that is Eat Drink Man Woman to the tragic delicacy of The Ice Storm-- and believe there is no filmmaker out there with such versatility. unfortunately, the Academy has been generous to his films, but not to his achievement as a director. In 1996, Sense & Sensibility was nominated for Best Picture but Lee did not get a nod for director; Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon's 2001 sweep through the awards season ended when on Oscar night, Lee became the fifth director EVER to win the Director's Guild and not the Academy Award. Let's hope with Brokeback Mountain, Ang Lee gets his due...and btw, he would be the very first Asian director to ever do so if it happens. fingers crossed...

Best Original Screenplay, Crash
by far, the most provacative film that came out in a year of provocative films. it challenged my perceptions and moved me to both tears and shame. this was a film rooted strongly in its words and i have no doubt it will be rewarded for it...

Best Actor, Heath Ledger
People can say what they want, but I really prefer Heath's portrayal in this category...and that's saying a lot because I saw the films of each of the actors nominated and thought they were all phenomenal. but Heath's was the one that filled me with complete sadness. the seeming emptiness of his life at the end of the film...it was almost too much to bear...and you can feel that burden in his character. i left the theater remembering that burden, that complete acceptance of his loneliness, for days afterwards. that's powerful acting, no?

Best Original Song, "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp"
i recently watched Hustle & Flow and am still singing the hook to this hip hop track in my head. LOVE IT! it would kick ass to have a song about pimpin' and ho's as an Oscar-winning song. i wonder who's going to sing it (or really, RAP it) during the ceremony tomorrow...hm...

Restless

2006-02-16T14:00:00.000-05:00

my A-D-D has kicked into high gear...i blame winter restlessness. that, and the internet...

The poor whippet. I guess she just can't deal with the fact that Best In Show went to a funny-looking boy called, Rufus, egg-shaped head and all. Maybe she went to cower inside one of those x-ray machines. i'd look there first. aren't they good at spotting things?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060216/ap_on_sp_ot/missing_dog

So the last time a Vice President shot someone, it was a very un-accidental achievement. That's right VP Cheney, Aaron Burr at least had the decency to organize a noble duel before shooting (and killing, might i add) Alexander Hamilton, the father of our treasury system. That duel is re-created every year, right over the hudson river at the NJ Palisades...you think they'd be commemorating Cheney's trigger finger exploits? me don't think so...

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060214/ap_en_tv/tv_cheney_jokes

is it wrong that i think Johnny Weir is totally cool? he's eccentric, flamboyant, a self-declared "princess" who mouths off in a way that men in sequins don't often do. and yes, it's politically incorrect, but his comparison of Torino's Olympic Village (where the athletes stay) to a concentration camp is so wrong yet right in all its icy goodness.

http://www.nbcolympics.com/figureskating_men/5092883/detail.html

Black Ice

2006-02-14T01:27:00.000-05:00

monday morning, the day after the blizzard of 2006 (heretofore known as the day i attempted a cannonball dive into 27 inches of fresh Central Park snow!), i overhear this exchange:

man: wow, the streets have really iced over. we should be careful...

deliciously evil woman: yes, but you know what would be hilarious? watching someone wipe out!

man: that's awful.

deliciously evil woman: look, i don't want anyone to get hurt, per se...i just think it would be a good laugh..and i need a good laugh (insert cackle here)

there is nothing like snow in the city. it's beautiful for about one good hour before turning into a dreary ugly mess for us to slosh through. despite some awesome boots, my feet feel perpetually wet. and getting showered by melting snow raining off the buildings? f-un. it makes me feel oh so clean. but the WORST part is Black Ice-- the city's shitty drainage system leaves no space for quickly dissolving snow piles...leaving them to pool into dark, deceptively deep puddles along every street corner: Black Ice. What may look like the pavement is really five good inches of dirty water. I always love watching people get to a corner where they're just not so sure...how deep is the puddle? is it a puddle at all? maybe i can leap over it? and then they wait to see if some hapless person will give it a test...usually, that person is me. when's the next storm?

Don't Look Back in Anger

2006-01-28T23:28:00.000-05:00

It's my first foray back into the blogosphere after temporarily disengaging to face the hardest working weeks of my life to date. That fourteen day period leading up to the holidays (which I lovingly termed "Just...Get...Through...This!") was an exercise in mind over matter--I started a new (part-time) job, endured and won my first semester-end battle with exams/papers/team projects, and actively attempted to maintain a social life in the midst of all those sleepless nights.

After dusting off all that end-of-year chaos, it still took me nearly a month to get used to the sound of the New Year, recover from yet another alcohol-fueled send-off to the last one and then crawl back into some semblance of "normality." With 2005 quickly falling into the distant past, I still can't help but reflect on what a personally pivotal year it was for me. And even with its many low points, I prefer to not look back with regret and bitterness, but instead learn from the past. So though a little belated, here are ten lessons from 2005, my year that was:

1.Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
Patience is a virtue and for a while, I wasn’t sure I had an ounce of it. This time last year, I was in the midst of my Long Winter Wait. Trapped in a shitty job that was slowly killing my spirit, I placed my entire future fate in the hands of an anonymous group of admissions committees who would single-handedly save me or send me deeper into my living hell. Sure, I concocted multiple exit strategies (including evil fantasy ones, like throwing my computer out the window so TPTB would just toss me out already!), but going to grad school was the choice I wanted most-- I needed it to happen so I could be within breathing distance of my Dream Job. So with clenched fists, I trudged through those seemingly endless months, made better by throwing a few well-timed "fuck you's" to my boss (behind his back, of course) and engaging in numerous happy hours and bitch sessions that didn’t necessarily make the time any sweeter, but at least got me through it…turns out, grad school was in the cards for me and it has been the most positive decision I’ve made for myself in over two years. there is nothing better than doing something that makes you happy...you even learn to appreciate the long, winding road that gets you there.

2. Be Aggressive, B-E AGGRESSIVE!
Besides being a cheer-tastic movie, Bring it On! also gave me a mantra to live by: patience may be important (see # 1), but wanting something and doing nothing about is the lamest excuse ever. I’m pro pro-activity. When I’m in an unhappy or unsatisfying situation, I immediately search for ways to push myself out of it. Change may not always happen immediately, but just knowing that I'm working on it always offers a flicker of hope. The thing is, you can't sit around and wish your life to change for the better—you have to be like Nike and JUST DO IT-- complaining gets you nowhere, and frankly, I don’t have any sympathy for those who complain and don’t act. Most importantly, never EVER let some jerk-off boss treat you like a doormat to wipe his shit-stained shoes on…if I learned anything from my last job, it’s that you have to stand up for yourself, take risks, and not be scared of yelling back or coming off as a bitch-- cuz honestly, you'll actually earn more respect and start hating yourself less.

3. Vacations are good for the soul
A week in Belize did wonders for my physical and mental health (seriously, i had four sinus infections from january-april of last year)...there is nothing like living on island time, where every day is sunny and every hour is Happy Hour...now, if i could only find time for a vacay in 2006 on my meager student budget…

4. Never Underestimate the Benefits of a Summer Fling
Some action is better than no action. That’s all I have to say…

5. Feed Your Brain, It Needs Watering
the mind is a really weird instrument--it has the endless capacity to hold drawers full of pointless info (for instance, i can still name the entire roster of the 1986 World Champion Mets and tell you who won the Best Oscar Picture since 1972...i know, totally useless!)...but remember how to calculate a regression and the core economic theories of supply & demand--both, core subjects i took in college?--nope, barely recall a thing. the brain, like any muscle, needs exercise—we need to constantly feed it with intellectual energy or its becomes stale and lackluster. more than six years removed, 2005 marked my returned to the classroom. Finally, I was going to give my brain the workout it deserved. And now, more than i ever was in my four years as an undergrad, I was excited to read, write papers, do problem sets, and just plain learn. back in college, i used to skip statistics class. now, i totally geek out and can't wait to see how lectures translate into real world applications. It’s refreshing to acquire new skills, engage in intelligent conversation, and write in prose and not bullet points. sue me, i'm a born-again nerd.

6. If Memory Served Me Right, then I would Remember…
i refuse to believe that i'm at an age where not remembering the past eight hours of my life should be a regular occurrence...right??? i mean, that just doesn't make sense, unless...

7. ...So Don't Drink (Alcohol) on an Empty Stomach ...
oh yea, whoops. this is one of my BIG lessons learned from 2005. i mean, two times is a coincidence, three times is a pattern...so four times blacking out due to drinking too much on an empty stomach means...what? a problem? FINE! i'm not the marathon drinker i used to be (sure, going out five times a week at 22 will push your tolerance up, but i guess age and tolerance are inversely related)...how should I resolve this? Well, i'm not gonna sign myself up for AA just yet. Instead, I’ll drink by this new personal rule: before imbibing cocktails, eat a Real Meal. Sure, I guess i should just drink less...but C'MON! that's like asking a bear to give up honey.

8. A Good Friend Will Yell At You
real friends will listen intently to you and offer sage advice on anything and everything. however, a really GOOD friend will yell at you, call you out on your bullshit and tell you the Awful Truth like you're acting like a bitch or you look God-awful in those jeans...sometimes it hurts ( i know my eardrums surely do), but it the best kind of friendship and makes you a better person (hopefully) ;)

9. Sleep is an under-rated recreational activity
2005 was the year i learned the value of sleep. not much rivals it...except maybe sex...but even then it may be a close call. five years ago, i use to survive on less than five hours of sleep per day...i blame NYC, restlessness, cocktails, and sunny days. now, i relish those rare moments where i can sleep for 12 hours and not feel guilty about it. Zzz…

10. Understand what excites you, and go after it
the most important lesson i've learned: never give up on the things that move you because you'll never forgive yourself. more than four years ago, i had that "a-ha" moment--where this light went off in my head and i understood exactly what i was passionate about. for me, I want to contribute to the urban education reform movement and every new change I made in my career since then was a change towards fulfilling that passion. There were many detours, wrong turns, stalled moments, and times when I was ready to give up and just surrender to where the money was…fortunately, I persisted and forced myself to listen to the voices nagging at me—including those of some good friends and mentors who have both nourished and encouraged me to achieve my goals. There is still a lot for me to do to get to where I want to be, but just knowing I’m pursuing it makes all the difference.

So Happy Belated 2006! Can’t wait to see what I learn from you this year…

Breakups, Breakdowns

2005-12-08T10:32:00.000-05:00

though i may not have a legitimate boyfriend, i can still remember the heartache of past breakups and anticipate the potential pain of future ones. yes, i'm a cynic. but can you blame me, its the friggin holidays?

last year, i was dating this guy for about four months and still remember very clearly that moment when we broke up. we had a very mature conversation, hugged goodbye, and i calmly exited his place before he could glimpse any tears filling my eyes. as soon as i caught a cab, i sobbed for 5 minutes straight, expunging all the frustration that comes with ending a romance. when the crying finally stopped, i took a breath, called my friend Holly and was over it. there should be songs for moments like that. and there ARE songs. there should also be songs that characterize the more wrenching affairs that leave permanent marks on our hearts. what do those sound like? sad? maybe. bitter? possibly yes.

so i'm trying to compile a list of great Break Up Songs. they could be about breaking up, moving on, longing for past love, the anger at those that broke your heart, or the memory of that Last Night together...

on my current Breakup/Breakdown playlist:

1. "By the Bed," Phantom Planet
2. "Gone for Good," The Shins
3. "Burn," Usher
4."Tiny Vessels," Death Cab for Cutie
5. "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart," Al Green
6. "Screaming Infidelities," Dashboard Confessional
7. "Your Ex-Lover is Dead," Stars
8. "When the Heartache is Over," Tina Turner
9. "Since U Been Gone," Kelly Clarkson
10. "Linger," The Cranberries
11. "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You," Colin Hay
12. "Fling," Built to Spill
13. "One More Night (You're Ex-Lover is Still Dead)," Stars
14. "Harder Now That It's Over," Ryan Adams
15. "Once You Loved Somebody," Dixie Chicks

what's on your list?

Searching for my Holiday Spirit

2005-12-04T17:59:00.000-05:00

if i strain my senses hard enough, i can almost make out the gentle jangle of sleigh bells, catch a whiff of pine needles under my nose, and maybe sneak a taste of candy canes from sugar plum fairies. the city's awash in lights, glowing with the Holiday Spirit and i'm still having trouble locating mine. tis the season to be jolly? that's what the song says, but the "b-side" of that tiding would be much more honest, and much more depressing: the holidays can be such a lonely time.

true, there are gifts to buy and family and friends to trim trees with, but it's not easy to conjure up that picture-perfect warmth sitting alone in my apartment. i'm up to my eyeballs in school work and in a noted funk, but fear that december will slip away too quickly. last year, i spent all of december immersed in job-hate and grad school applications. when the holidays flashed by without a moment of my attention, i promised myself that this year, i'll be different. i'll appreciate the glitter of the season, revel in the special quality that emerges from the city during this time. unfortunately, i'm just not up for it. even while shivering in the cold on a lower east side street corner, watching as the first snow fell on my head-- the perfect winter moment-- my heart still could not dance to the sound of christmas carols singing in the distance. this is so unlike me. someone please, shake me hard and get me into the holiday way before its too late.

Post-Reunion Funk

2005-11-30T13:43:00.000-05:00

over the past 96 hours, i've imbibed five Starbucks Gingerbread lattes (it's that time of year), cried three times (twice due to stress, once due to post-Thanksgiving family dysfunction), slept thirty hours, had three interviews (two for me), fell behind in two classes by an additional week (that makes three weeks total), had zero drops of alcohol (maybe that was an issue) and attended one ten-year high school reunion.

reunions are depressing. they're surreal, fake, and awkward. just like high school itself. in the end, they’re just re-enactments of the past--you ignore those you dislike (or think you dislike) and are ignored by those who are stupid enough not to see how fabulous you really are. whatever. i’m over it. sorta. but really, why does anyone ever want to go back? to re-live past glory? that's just pathetic. re-connect with old friends? c'mon, get real. if you were truly good friends in the first place, you wouldn't necessarily need to re-connect, now would you? personally, i think its just a way to satiate our morbid curiosities...to answer the question of did that Pretty Girl get fat? is the star soccer player still an asshole? are the blondes still blonde? yes. yes. and yes-- but more like bottled blondes. ha.

worst yet, people use reunions as a medium to flaunt their achievements—usually in the form of a wife or husband or baby. and no matter how much i’ve evolved or accomplished, having no Significant Other to show off made me sad, i felt just a little inferior to these “former friends” of ten years ago. although i may not be one of those that got fat, old or bald--and Thank Goodness for that—its shitty to be reminded of all the things i don’t have…that no matter how far i run away from high school, i can’t out-run time. yes, it’s all in my head and we’re not all suppose to be on the same schedule. but perhaps that’s the whole point of high school anyway. its just a competition to see who got where first and who fell behind. and right now, i feel very behind. and i have no idea what to do about it. well, i guess i can get drunk. there. Problem? Solved. heh.

Giving Thanks

2005-11-24T18:02:00.000-05:00

despite the sudden change from fall to winter, my impending ten-year high school reunion that sent me into an introspective/mildly depressed state, and the fact that i have loads of homework to do, there are still a TON of things to be thankful for, namely:

1. the good health and happiness of my wondeful family & friends
2. a graduate program that i truly enjoy
3. the government loans & meager personal savings that allow me to attend school full-time
4. the friendships in my life that continue to grow & strengthen each year
5. new york city, despite its flaws, because just like my family and friends, i love it unconditionally and sometimes still can't believe i live here

Happy Thanksgiving! Stuff yourself with anything that makes you happy :)

Time + Age = Imperfect Fit

2005-11-21T23:29:00.000-05:00

"miss, how old are you?"

pause. silence. crickets chirping....

"um...uh...twenty-eight?"

okay, i've had more than a month to get use to the sound of it, but it's kinda like those too-tight jeans that continue to ride up your crotch with each step...it just doesn't fit. twenty-eight is T-2 years until the Big 3-0 and it’s hard to believe that time has outpaced my girlhood vision of what my life would look like at this age. not only does twenty-eight just not feel right, but i’m unwilling to relinquish my younger years when i've held Adulthood and all its responsibilities at an arm’s length, peering at it in the faraway distance. sometimes, there are still days when college feels as if it was just yesterday and that a clock is just a clock and not a biological instrument counting down the precious moments left to achieve all those critical “milestones” i’ve barely yet accumulated. and though i know there's no right way to feel or be at any age, and that everything will fall into its rightful place sooner or later, isn’t it easier to prolong youth rather than step into the future? there's still plenty of time, right? RIGHT? plenty of time to find a job, find a man, and find myself?!?!

that’s the problem with age—it’s not just a number, but a symbol of time elapsed, reminding me that no matter how much i try, my younger carefree days are quickly fading, fit or no fit. and with this fact comes the realization that i’m still a hundred miles away from where i thought i’d be at this point. seek out my younger self, and she would swear to you that by twenty-eight, i'd surely be married (nope, not even a boyfriend in sight), working a great job (no again, back to school) , and possibly pregnant (oh Lordy, definitely no, not even close to ready). it is the burden of these unfulfilled expectations that make putting on a new age so difficult. do years of un-checked off milestones equate to a life un-lived? i hope the answer is no. that just fits better.

voting addendum

2005-11-15T01:54:00.000-05:00

felt depressed after class today. i mean, i love school and haven't had access to so much learning in God knows HOW long...but my policy class is shaping me into an even bigger cynic than i already am. it's disheartening really. apparently, our political system is just a series of smoke and mirrors--data manipulation and opportunity exploitation. what happend to the voice of the people? the power of democracy and freedom? it's all crap when the majority of the voting-age population pleads apathy versus exercising their civic duty. and that foolish statement i made about what NYC voters wouldn't choose to support the transit ballot? well, i failed to acknowledge the trade-offs inherent (but hidden) in such a vote-- $ used for a new subway line means $ NOT USED for other city issues...say, eradicating poverty. revitalizing low-income neighborhoods. or my own personal cause...improving the city's public schools. dude, the reality check blows.

Jane Austen Redux

2005-11-14T11:44:00.000-05:00

sure, Jane Austen is an irresistible source to tap into when it comes to film-making...but how many versions of Pride & Prejudice can each generation take? apparently, not enough. whoever the incarnation, be it a neurotic British diaryist or a fearless Bollywood beauty...it seems all women aspire to be a little like Elizabeth Bennett.

against my better wishes, my jewish sista persuaded (or passive-aggressively dragged) me to see the new Keira Knightly helmed take on the Austen classic. the theater was packed with women (and the occassional hauled boyfriend) ready to take in the high comedy and drama eventually leading Lizzie to fall for the arrogant-turned-dashing Mr. Darcy. for those of us still shaking off the goose-bumps induced by the decidedly sexy Colin Firth as Darcy in the 1995 BBC miniseries version (um, wet white shirt scene at Pemberly? fan me now!), THIS new Darcy will leave a lot to be desired. he's handsome, yes. but you just don't SEE the transformation from uppity ass to a man affected by love...nor does he do adequate justice to the pivotal marriage proposal scene. which, for more dramatic flourish, was done in the rain, not as Austen intended. artistic license i understand...but come on! rain?!?! how cliche is that? however, there are upsides. the film is beautifully shot and the score is lovely (and perhaps, eerily similar to the BBC's score?). Knightly makes a feisty Elizabeth and Brenda Blethyn and Donald Sutherland are perfectly cast as the Bennett parents. and Dame Judi Dench, true to form, is a biting and almost demonic Lady Catherine. overall, i'll admit that film is faithful in tone to Austen's story-- particularly paying close attention to the finely drawn comedic points. i actually laughed out loud quite a lot. but when the credits rolled, i was ready to go home and reacquaint myself with the book. even a good copy can never top the original masterpiece.

Transit Notes

2005-11-10T09:20:00.000-05:00

you can empower citizens, but can you implement the decisions? that's the question the oft-maligned MTA has to answer after NYC voters (yay power of the vote!) approved the ballot in Tuesday's election allowing the use of state $$$ to finally finally FINALLY build the long talked about but never evolved 2nd avenue subway line. what voter would VOTE AGAINST that motion? beats me. but if you've ever taken the 4,5,6 lines during the height of rush hour-- you know: this city desperately needs an additional subway line on the east side to diffuse the crowds and increase access points. NOW. the cynic in me shakes my head and wonders-- it was great that New Yorkers were given a role in this decision-making process...but will we still be around to see this project through to its desired result? given all the subway detours/hassles/confusion created on weekends due to construction at current stations, one has to wonder...but man, don't those new red coats look snazzy on all the station attendants? i'm glad the MTA knows how to effectively spend our tax dollars...

the Christmas Tree arrived at Rockefeller Center today, cut fresh from Wayne, NJ....leading me to wonder-- where the hell did all the time go? its two weeks (TWO WEEKS!) until thanksgiving...and here i was just starting to put away my opened-toe shoes...

just saw another commercial for Rent. i am SO EXCITED. finally, a slew of new movies worth seeing as we move full speed ahead into the holidays. on my must-see list:

1. Rent
2. Walk the Line
3. Derailed
4. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
5. The Squid and the Whale
6. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
7. Chronicles of Narnia
8. Memoirs of a Geisha

any other opinions or recommendations? i haven't seen a movie since August!

A Little of This, A Lot of That

2005-10-30T20:28:00.000-05:00

swimming in midterms and papers, my mind is not use to all the intellectual stimulation. and what's worse, my body can't seem to properly adjust to the student (lack of) sleep schedule-- daylight savings doesn't help-- throwing my system totally out of whack. yes, we earn an extra hour...but is it EVER enough? and the shorter days will only make for longer sleepless nites, no? man... sleep is such an under-rated recreational activity. it may just rival alcohol and sex. just a little bit.

student life also warrants much procrastination...so as we dive straight into cold, brisk autumn days, some random ramblings...

Press repeat...

don't know about you, but i go through these phases where all i do is listen to the same ten songs or the same three albums. i get obsessive like that...but also, music connects me with all the unfiltered emotions that flow through my head. so right now, i'm currently listening to...

Gimme Fiction, Spoon

this indie rock band hails from Austin, TX and pairs dense, moody lyrics with sparse muscial arrangements. i can't get over the tracks "I Summon You" and "I Turn My Camera On".

Seven Swans, Sufjan Stevens

Sufjan Stevens current release, Illinois, the latest installment in his ambitious a-record-for-every-state project, is at the top of every critics list this year. its a great record...but i can't seem to get away from this haunting, beautiful folk album that is filled with faith and intimacy.

Set Yourself on Fire, Stars

when my ipod shuffled out "One More Night" one day on my subway ride home, i was immediately hooked. a friend introduced me to this band earlier this summer...but i didn't really LISTEN until this tune caught me off guard. each track is like unwrapping a secret between lovers--we're accidently listening in on the dialogue between Amy Milan and Torquil Campbell, Stars' two lead singers. their vocalised interchange weaves together stories of heartache and breakups in between electronic pulses, rich string arrangements, and staccato drum beats.

An Ode to China...and Rachmaninoff?

over the weekend, i attended a performance at Carnegie Hall that was a celebration of sorts for the Chinese people in the metro area...okay, i exaggerate. but it was the 1st anniversary of the U.S. Chinese Chamber of Commerce (i know, i don't get it either). was it wrong that we cracked communist jokes? probably, but still. honestly, i was there for my friend...she plays for the New Amsterdam Symphony Orchestra, a community-based orchestra that features young talent, and it was their debut. i was both excited and envious of her-- playing in such hallowed space. it made me long for my piano back at my parents house...and the days when i use to be able to tap out a decent tune. sandwiched between some very patriotic chinese pieces (one, called the Yellow River Concerto, even elicited clapping from the predominantly chinese audience during the encore) was my favorite piano concerto of all time-- the Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor...played in all its dramatic glory by a celebrated chinese pianist...it was just gorgeous.

Pet Peeves

what are your pet peeves? in-between pieces at the orchestra performance, my friends and i rattled off a few:

1. Clapping in-between movements during a classical music performance. okay, fine. some audience members probably don't know the difference...they think a pause is a moment to clap...but c'mon! even the announcer had to tell everyone during intermission to not clap until the END of the piece...hahaha.

2. Using text/instant-messaging acronyms in actual e-mails. this is nitpicky yes, but can't you afford to type out the full freaking word? LOL...what the hell? i just don't understand that one at all...just say haha...i get it, you think i'm funny.

3. Talking on the cell phone at the gym. this totally drives me insane. you are at the gym to WORK OUT not catch up with your girlfriends or make business calls. it's inappropriate and disruptive and rude to other gym members who just want to work off some negative energy...not acquire some more. if i wanted to know what your weekend plans were, i'd be friends with you already...but don't you think you look stupid sweating on the elliptical machine with a cell phone to your ear?

okee...back to the studying grind...

Must See TV?

2005-10-09T23:35:00.000-04:00

now that we're officially entrenched in the new television season, its time for some personal commentary on a handful of new AND returning shows...

Arrested Development 8:30pm, Mondays on FOX

Will PEOPLE PLEASE WATCH THIS SHOW!!!! it's BRILLIANT. okay, enough screaming, but please, America, i beg you for the second time to give this show a chance. in its third (and possibly last) season, the show is quirkier and even more ludicrously sardonic than ever. Ron Howard, who does the documentary-ish narrations, has infused his voice-overs with with a less-than-objective twist of actually mocking the characters. and those crazy characters--each member of the Bluth family is still hopelessly selfish and appalling. God, i love them. and this show. can any other sitcom rival its genius?...

My Name is Earl 9:00 pm, Tuesdays on NBC

well...Earl is setting itself up to be the cleverest new sitcom since...well...since Arrested Development. Earl, Jason Lee's shady redneck alter-ego is both smarmy and charming (trust me, the mustache works for him) and the show plays like a mini-movie: each ep has Earl (and his lovably dense brother--"oh no he DIDN'T") seek redemption by way of Carson Daly (again, just trust me) to undo all the horrible things he's done in his life. all 248 of them (or something like that). you see, he's won the lottery...gets hit by a car...lost the ticket...regains the ticket...and is thus set on his mission. the dialogue is smart, the set-ups are downright laugh-out-loud hilarious (exhibit A: gay club dance scene) and the low-life characters are actually empathetic ones... sounds like a recipe for success to me...

The Apprentice: Martha Stewart 8pm, Wednesdays on NBC

is it wrong that i love Martha? suddenly, she's this whole new person that i truly respect. sure, call me manipulated by the production whores, but i'm enamored with softer, gentler Martha. pre-white-collar-jail, Martha seemed so out-of-reach from the audience...her sets were almost as austere as her chilly demeanor. post-white-collar-jail: she's all warm hues and regal elegance...on her new daytime show (yes, i watch it, sue me!), she does fun craft/cooking projects with her celebrity guests...and she actually exudes patience in lieu of pointing out their incompetence. its charming, really. and on HER version of The Apprentice, she epitomizes female success. and unlike Trump's stupid-ass "business" tips...Martha actually doles out useful, relevant advice. and she's stern ("women don't cry in the business world my dear) but not bitchy. AND, to extend the soft side-- she write letters to the candidates she "lets go." LETTERS. dude. my new hero. okay, i'll stop gushing now.

How I Met Your Mother 8:30pm, Mondays on CBS

since when did CBS begin courting the coveted 18-35 age group? isn't this the old fogies network that features sappy shows like Judging Amy?no longer. nudged between mediocre family staples like Two and a Half Men (again, someone explain to me the appeal?) and King of Queens, is the above-mediocre-with-loads-of-potential Friends-like comedy, How I Met Your Mother. as the ads say, its a love story in reverse-- an unseen father in year 2030 (the voice of Bob Saget) is telling his teenage kids the long long LONG story of how he met their mother. flashback to present day NYC, where the doofily charming and neurotic Ted (played by Josh Radnor), gets a case of serious wedding-envy when his best friends (one of whom is played by American Pie's i-get-off-on-a-flute Alyson Hannigan) get engaged. Um, wha? A MAN...in NYC...with WEDDING ENVY? does such a man exist? hm...not sure. BUT, neil patrick harris is pretty funny as ted's dumb-ass bachelor friend and the ensemble has a natural enough chemistry that may endear themselves to a new generation of twenty-somethings suffering through yet another quarter life crises. i loved the first two eps...but the third one was drab and beyond contrived (licking the Liberty Bell as a metaphor for living in the moment, WTF?)...i'm holding out hope that things will get better.

Amazing Race: Family Edition, 9pm Tuesdays on NBC

as reality shows go, Amazing Race is definitely the cream of the crop. teams of two race around the world, duking out each other in physical and mental competitions with $1MM at stake. as teams traverse the globe, storylines emerge organically: under the burden of exhaustion, language barriers, and personal contentions, teams learn life lessons and test their both their physical limits and their social adaptability (and yes, the label Ugly American does rear its nasty head). but for this, the eighth iteration of the race...producers are ratcheting up the drama notch by expanding the teams into "families" of four. what use to be a compelling reality show that brought the world's nether regions to the American TV-watching masses has turned into a show about the Worst Family Roadtrip Ever. lots of camera time focusing on families bickering in the car. to be fair, only two episodes have aired so far. but so far, the teams haven't left the country yet (its been a journey through American history-- NYC--> Philadelphia--> Washington, D.C.) and the challenges seem contrived to induce a sense of American patriotism. not sure if this format works, but there are still 9 legs of the race to run...

Lost 9pm, Wednesdays on ABC

this show is going to drive me crazy. i literally watch on the edge of my seat, clutching my hands and scared of polar bears. but when the show ends, i end up reeling with questions. questions that usually begin with WHAT THE F---? inside the hatch is some grand scientific experiment? The Others are just a Lord of the Flies version of the other half of the plane? or ARE they? who is Desmond and where the hell is he running off to? exactly exactly. i still love the slow-reveal format of each character's psyche-- journeying deep into their past puts more context around each person's individual reaction to the island happenings. BUT. and this is a big BUT. the mysteries are starting to spin out of control-- at what point do the dots connect and will they ever?

Grey's Anatomy 10pm, Sundays on ABC

love this show. i really do. its cutesy without being annoying. its moving without being overly manipulative. and sandra oh rocks. love her. her character's friendship with ellen pompeo's meredith makes meredith's i'm-a-fragile-porcelain-doll routine much more bearable. and did ANYONE predict that the ultar-dorky Ronald Miller from Can't Buy Me Love would turn into the hot Dr. McDreamy? HELLO!

Alias 8pm, Thursdays on ABC

okay. this is sad to admit...but i fear i may have to just let this show go. there. i said it. but i can't seem to buy into the crazy Rimbaldi-Prophet-Project shit anymore. and killing off a major character who's relationship with Jennifer Garner's Sydney was the major romantic thread of the show...it just seems so wrong. i mean, i still love Victor Garber (Best Spy Daddy Ever) but i can't watch Sydney Bristow screw things up and furrow her brow for the umpteenth time. i can't. i'm sorry. bring back Lena Olin or else i'm switching to Everybody Hates Chris.

Jack White is a Maniac and The Killers need more Songs

2005-10-02T18:18:00.000-04:00

two consecutive weekends in a row, my friends and i ventured into the outer boroughs (and i mean outer boroughs) to take in some great outdoor concerts before the new york winter kicks in. destination one: keyspan park in coney island, brooklyn. for manhattanites, getting to coney island is a LONG ride. but everyone should make the trip, eat an authentic nathan's dog, ride the cyclone, and tour the new york acquarium. its classic old-school new york.

keyspan park is home of the mets farm team-- the cyclones. i've yet to attend one of their games, but the stadium is really nice (seriously, its nicer and cozier than shea), located right off the water, with the world famous wooden Cyclone in view. it was the first cold night of the year (foolishly dressed in tank tops, we were freezing our asses off), and keyspan was hosting the White Stripes / The Shins / Brendan Benson. what a line-up. brendan benson, like the White Stripes, is from Detroit...but that's where the similarities end. benson is all pure power pop: edgy guitar hooks with melodies you can sing to. his latest release, The Alternative to Love is his first on a major label and with each track, is a reminder of another great power pop master, Matthew Sweet (a personal fave of mine, Sweet's Girlfriend is on my list of top 20 albums ever).

attending a concert at keyspan is cool, but beware when you buy tickets. floor admission, which can ultimately make or break a concert experience, was limited to certain ticketholders only. i was under the impression there was only one ticket price point offered...obviously i was wrong. damn you ticketmaster!!!...anyway, we regulated ourselves to the stadium seats and watched the concert from afar...which is a shame cause brendan is a hottie. he plowed through a short set, playing some of his head-bopping tracks, including my faves--"Spit it Out" and "Gold into Straw."

following brendan was indie fave-- and a band on heavy heavy rotation on my ipod-- is The Shins. i love them. but i must admit, i feared they wouldn't play well live. lyrically, their songs are aching and emotionally complex and just so beautiful that i didn't want to share the experience with a crowd of teenagers who surely could not understand all those moods. i was wrong. The Shins were fantastic-- all crazy energy, they strummed their guitars and jammed and had the crowd singing along and dancing. did they play my favorite songs? you betcha! now i HAVE to see them in a smaller venue...

and finally, The White Stripes. OMG. Jack White is INSANE. he's all over the stage-- one second he's screaming like a maniac, next he's sweetly singing a lilting country ballad. WTF? and meg, NOT the most interesting of drummers, emotes a unique glow when combined with "her brother" (or ex husband? you believe what you will....), exuded so much chemistry/energy, it was almost enough to warm us up on that chilly autumn night. Their new album, the revered Get Behind Me Satan, dominated the first half of their set. Jack thrashed at his guitar, banged at the piano, and beat down upon the xylophone. sometimes, it seemed he was directly screaming at meg. sometimes, i wasn't sure where he was directing his anger/regret/disgust. on one (rare) occasion, he even allowed meg a turn at the mike.

yesterday, i went to the Across The Narrows Concert . um, AWESOME! this was the first concert of its kind-- a two day, four concert modern rock-fest-- held simultaneously in brooklyn (at keyspan, like the white stripes concert last week!) and at richmond park (home of the staten island yankees) in, yep, Staten Island. some key headliners: Beck, The Pixies, The Killers, Oasis, built to spill, Rilo Kiley, The Polyphonic Spree...the list goes on and on. however, my friends and i decided to board the ferry (the ferry! ride it. it's free! a little aside--whenever i'm on it...and this was my second time, i feel like melanie griffith in Working Girl. okay, random). our lineup: The Killers, New York Dolls, Interpol, British Sea Power, Tegan & Sara, Lake Trout.

it was 75 degrees and sunny! we were outside! at another great minor league ballpark! behind the performers (except for The Killers), the stage opened up to reveal the manhattan skyline shimmering in the distance. it was just grrreeaat. admittedly, i didn't know much of the works of Tegan & Sara...but we arrived just before their set. if you ever watch Grey's Anatomy on sunday nites, the show often features their tunes. they're a pair of twins from Canada and sing in shrieky, nervous harmonies. their songs were catchy and they had endearing personalities on stage-- chatting and sometimes mocking the audience. i liked them. especially their adorably cute drummer. yummy. afterwards, was British Sea Power. eccentric is probably the most apt adjective for them. um, why are there random tree branches on stage? and...is that guitarist just wearing bright red socks? exactly. but they're British. not that that explains ANYTHING. their sound veers from dark and atmospheric...to all out pop with a dash of punk. these guys have stage presence. they are obviously having fun out there-- a drummer came down into the crowd while the others were doing acrobatics on stage. yep, i swear. kinda reminds me of those dorky, drunk frat boys doing somersaults on the floor all throughout the concert...trying to attract chicks. hot? i don't think so. yea, British Sea Power is SO MUCH COOLER.

fittingly, the sun began to set just as Interpol came on stage. OMG. i need to see them again, at a smaller venue too. they sounded amazing-- each tune, most from their more recent album Antics --is meticulously played. and, the band got all dressed up! save the drummer (who seemed to be wearing a red velved suit), they were all reflections of their melancholy sound-- pale white skin dressed in contrasting dark black or blue suits. yummy, these guys are good looking in all their gloom. and btw, that's better looking than the national average AND the nyc average. ha. inside joke.

anyway. after Interpol, came punk legends (?) the New York Dolls. okay, these guys are almost as old as the Rolling Stones. this is not a compliment. with the excpetion of their rendition of "Piece of My Heart"-- this was a slightly pathetic showing. these guys are OLD. and i think they're still in the '70s (no kidding, they mentioned the Vietnam War...you know some of the kids at the show were like, um...what war in vietnam?). unfortunately, even though the songs were danceable, everyone was antsily waiting for The Killers. sorry, guys...but we didn't want a reunion tour. i'm being harsh...but i was getting really cold at this point of the concert. Finally. they finish...and out come...The Killers. wait, first the setup. the stadium darkens, the stage is lit in muted blue-white hues...smoke is coming up and the stereo is blasting a melodramatic love song from the '80s. wait for it....here they are!!!! YAYYYYY!!! there's Brandon Flowers, isn't he dapper in his white sports jacket and gray scarf? and wow, he's not wearing makeup for once! and...we all LOVE Hot Fuss-- their debut album. oh shit...they only have like 10 songs...and really, we all only LOVE five of them. when they first came out, i immediately thought of The Smiths and The Cure...but my friend was right, they sound just like Duran Duran. Simon LeBon, we miss you...but Brandon may be cuter in his dramatic, boyish way. and sure, they didn't have the best sound of the night...and maybe not even the best stage show...but we all got crazy and jumped and danced like there was no tomorrow. i warmed up fast, jumping like mad while singing along to insta-hits "Somebody Told Me" "Jenny was a Friend of Mine"...and of course, "Mr. Brightside." good stuff. and what was their encore, show ending number? uh-huh. "All These Things That I've Done"...okay, its not a song with loads of lyrical depth, but who can NOT feel energized after a tune like that? its just too much fun. man, i love live music. when's the next concert?

Great Reads

2005-09-19T17:09:00.000-04:00

the last two books i read were so diametrically different in tone and subject matter, but the quality writing and compelling storylines in each warrant a quick personal plug...

Triangle: The Fire That Changed America by David Von Drehle

initially, the fact that i had "pre-work" for my public policy class really threw a wrench in my summer unemployment plans. gritting my teeth, i bought this book and sought out a variety of ways to avoid actually reading it until the absolute last moment. one week before the start of classes, i capitulated...only to be completely enthralled by the author's grim and gripping account of New York City's worst workplace disaster prior to the 9/11 tragedy.

in March 1911, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory-- one of the largest garment factories in the city-- went up in flames, killing 146 workers, the majority of them young immigrant women. you are taken straight inside the inferno, reliving those precious details--locked doors, narrow stairwells, misplaced scraps of cloth-- as fire and smoke swept through the factory's upper floors, trapping scores of desperate workers in a matter of fifteen short minutes. this story, is not just a disaster saga; it is an engrossing social commentary, re-introducing readers to one of the most combustible times in our nation's socio-political history. Von Drehle takes great care to frame the story in the context of the times and from multiple angles-- the immigration boom at the turn of the century and its effects on urban culture; the growth of the american organized labor movement; the dominating political presence of Tammany Hall and city politics' subsequent shift to an era of more progressive reform ; and most notably, the humanizing of many of the individual Triangle workers-- add dimensions to an already riveting story. and as a new yorker, the book is a reminder of the living history we have in this city--from the corners of lower east side tenements to buildings on Washington Place (the Triangle building now houses NYU's chemistry classrooms). if you're a history or policy buff, or just want to be drawn in by a strong work of nonfiction, pick this one up-- you'll learn, and enjoy.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

some old work buds and i formed an ad-hoc book club of sorts and this was our second official book club selection. during our discussion over dinner and wine the other day, one sentiment was unanimous: WOW. we loved this book. it is everything that Great Fiction is suppose to be-- incredibly beautiful prose, fully fleshed out characters with tragic flaws, and a central narrative voice that a reader will surely empathize with. the crux of the story is built around Cal Stephanides, the protagonist who takes you through his life history-- beyond his conception and back in time to when his grandparents were about to flee Greece for America, taking with them a certain family secret that will unknowingly spill into the lives of their children and children's children. you see, Cal is no ordinary person-- Cal (nee Calliope) was brought up as a girl in Detroit, becoming a boy only when circumstances (or biology?) dictated it might be time to switch over.

this is an EPIC. similar to other epic family biographies (100 years of solitude comes to mind, as it's my personal favorite), this story illustrates the untenable connection we have to our families, the biological roadmap they unknowingly pass on to us, and a reminder that our past is always intertwined with our present--no matter how much we try to run away from it. tracing the lives of three generations of Stephanides, Middlesex relives Cal's unique family history set within the changing landscape of post-war America. it tells of the hope for and the inevitable loss of the American Dream. but it is also a story about identity-- gender roles, the immigrant experience, assimilation and all the gray areas in between that seek to define us. these characters will make you angry, sad, excited and perplexed and will probably shed some light on your own personal legacy. don't wait any longer. READ THIS BOOK...and tell me your thoughts when you've finished and finally taken a breath.

Tennis Fever!

2005-09-08T09:59:00.000-04:00

WOO! this year's u.s. tennis open has been awesome! two names: blake v. agassi! i stayed up into the wee hours watching their incredible five-set slugfest. agassi, someone i use to root against, has grown on me more as he ages-- he's a legend for sure; no one has a return like he does. but blake-- how can you root against this guy? all week the media has been hyping this match (blake was a wild card-- it was never a sure thing that he'd even make it this far) and it never disappointed. up until the fifth and final set-- the tiebreaker in fact-- the match could have gone either way. man, i wish i could have been there.

i've attended the u.s. open every year since 1998-- when my dad scored tix from work and i got to see my beloved pete sampras play live for the very first time. i loved sitting at arthur ashe stadium at night-- the u.s. open is the only slam with night matches-- the crowd's electricty and under the bright lights fuels the players and is nothing short of exciting. i feel privileged to be a part of some classics-- including the sampras v. agassi QF in 2001-- 4 straight tiebreaks! man, that was a good nite. and if you ever go, don't just glue yourself to center court action-- always, ALWAYS walk over to the smaller courts--especially the grandstand stadium-- where the seats are not assigned and you are so close, you can feel the court vibrate with each smash of the ball. if you're lucky, you may encounter a match that doesn't just feature dynamic players, but even more dynamic fans. my favorite fanatics: guga's brazilian contingent and the sricha-fans. they are INSANE, but i love 'em.

this year, the open has seen a few changes. first, the courts are now painted blue so that both players and spectators could see the ball better. i wasn't sure if i liked it at first-- i'm old school-- but as i sat way up in the upper tier of ashe watching the nail-biting hewitt v. dent match, i appreciated the court's bold blue. also, the grounds at flushing meadow-- where the open is held-- has received an aesthetic upgrade-- more trees and flowers but also a new set of fountains framing the entrance to ashe stadium. but the biggest change of all-- the fantastic weather! i can't remember a time when the open hasn't seen its share of chilly, windy september nights or days pouring streams of rain. this year, however, september has served up seven days of amazing weather. the combo of low humidity, sunny skies, and amazing matches makes me itch for some court time as well. if only it could inspire me to hit the ball with as much heat as sharapova-- minus her grunt.

take some time to smell the school supplies...

2005-09-06T23:09:00.000-04:00

my bag was packed, the pencils were sharpened, and a sandwich and juice box were wrapped to go. today was my first day of school. instead of stuffing my life into a trapper keeper...this time around, my return to the classroom intersects with a daunting anniversary of sorts: it was ten years ago (TEN!) when i started my freshmen year of college. its funny the way life stages often bump into reminders of the past. ten years ago, email was still in its relative nascent stage, Netscape was the ISP of choice, and people used pay phones. i know. pay phones.

as i shuffled through throngs of students at Washington Square today, it was tough not to marvel at how much younger (and smaller), trendier and more self-involved undergrads seem these days-- and a thought flashed through my mind-- they have no idea, but things are just barely beginning for them.

in many ways, this is a beginning for me as well. but a decade later, it's hard not to wrap this "back to school" moment with a yarn of perspective: the cumulative effects since my horribly naive, mortifyingly sheltered freshmen self has helped to inform the notion of who i am, where i've been and what has ultimately led me to this exact point. sure, there are some common denominators with those crazy college kids--we both attend lectures, bitch about our study groups, and hope to beat the curve on exams-- but there's a fundamental difference between the grad student "purpose" and the college student "experience." in college, i thought that THAT TIME would make or break my life--that i'd do all my growing and all my learning in that vacuum of four years. but today, settling into my first class, i fully appreciated the grad student perk of hindsight-- its okay to make mistakes, change course a few times, not know what you want, and live with your insecurities. ten years later, i'm much more prepared to handle the challenges...and most proud of the fact that no parent or teacher had a hand in putting (or pressuring) me to take this step. my notebook is ready for some action. this time, i'm doing this for me.

the life of the unemployed and fabulous!

2005-08-31T01:51:00.000-04:00

for the past 3 weeks, i've been living out my much needed, oft-fantasized time off between work and school. this "interim stage" has been a blur of days--who knew that unemployment during the final heated weeks of summer could be so exhausting...and fabulous? we should all quit our jobs and just let loose. we should all also win the lottery in order to fund such a pseudo-luxurious lifestyle.

unfortunately, my attention span is as long as a standard 30-minute sitcom, without commercials (dude, i flip during commercials)-- meaning i barely stay put for 20 odd minutes. without work to constantly fill my time, i thought i'd surely go crazy suffering from a mix of boredom and/or daytime tv hell. fortunately, i concocted a "to-do" list crammed full of fun nyc-related jaunts that provided more than enough daily stimulation...it also helps to have a group of crazy friends game for indulging in many alcohol-driven get-togethers at the drop of a hat. thanks, friends....i'll see you at AA in 5 years...haha. oh so sad but true.

so. the real problem has been the LACK of time. go figure. now, as summer (and my time off) winds down to its inevitable denoument, here are a few recaps, reviews, and recommendations...

Go to Hell...or just Go to The Hamptons

six years in nyc, and this was my very first summer in the Hamptons. my friend cbear and i did what any restless new yorker would do to avoid the city's oppressive humidity: we got ourselves a share house. four glamourous weekends out east? more like four weekends living out the frat house days we never had in college. um, yea. wanna challenge me to a flip cup duel? i'm your girl.

without mincing words, the house was a charming l'il shit hole in westhampton. great pool. kick ass tennis court. no air conditioning. and flies everywhere! by the end of the weekend, it became a health hazard to use one of the bathrooms. yea, this was a classy joint. what the house lacked in amenities was surely made up for in the varied personalities of our house mates. twenty pseudo-strangers partying like rock stars (or r&b stars, as we actually saw usher one saturday nite at a club) and drinking as if it were our last days on earth. our livers may never be the same, but we certainly generated enough dramatic material for a reality show cbear and i would like to pitch to fox-- Share House: Hamptons. can you see it now?...it can be franchised into many variations like, Share House: Aspen. we like to keep things seasonally-agnostic.

for me, my favorite hamptons share weekend was weekend #3. cbear and i rented a car and headed out butt-early one friday to explore east hampton's fabled Main Beach--regarded as one of the top beaches in the U.S. its stretch of sand was crowded with other early weekenders-- but walk a little ways down away from the central section near the parking lot, and you come across rockier stretches, where you can steal a look at some of the finest mansions as well as a view of the cute surfer boys (emphasis on boys) catching waves in the chilly waters. fantastic beach time can only be matched by lunch at the famed Lobster Roll in Amagansett where we had, what else? but lobster rolls! fresh and chunky pieces tossed in mayo and over-stuffed into a toasted hot dog bun. how do you spell H-E-A-V-E-N?

after two-days of more craziness at the house...we capped off the weekend with an afternoon at Montauk-- the eastern most point of Long Island. here, you can stroll up to the famous lighthouse or just perch yourself on a rock and stare out at the massive Atlantic. me? i plan to head back in winter, run on the snow-covered beach and seek out my future dream home a la Joel and Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

summer may be ending, but i have enough brain cells left (i hope) to wax sentimental over kegs, karaoke, taboo (diamonds!), and endless hot tub shenanigans.

Certified and Ready: May I take your drink order?

having worked for 6+ years plus the various intern/retail/babysitting stints i've had since early high school, the mere idea of unemployment doesn't sit well with me. so what else besides phone sex and prostitution could make me loads of money, yet not forcing me to sell out or sell my soul? bartending baby!

my friend dan and i always said we'd wanted to get some mixology skills. i mean, we like to drink...we mine as well get paid while doing it! ha. or so we thought.

we enrolled at the New York Bartending School, and though the class was filled with a mix of young kids rearing for a good time (literally, KIDS, at least five of them were under 21)-- we soon realized that bartending school was not going to be as easy as we thought. class was fun but at the end of it, you started to wish the bottles were filled with things OTHER than colored water. it was a two-week 40 hour course that sucked up our nights and caused some minor distress as our final test was to make 20 drinks in under 6 minutes. two shots of qualude and two shots of sicilan kiss? What the Fuck? who the hell orders these things? well...now, dan and i do...purely for shits and giggles. but still.

i scored a personal best of 4 min and 20 seconds on my speed drill and dan and i leveraged our extensive years of training (read: quick road to alcoholism) to speed through the written test as well. now we just need to get behind a bar, strut our stuff, and make some good tips. any takers?

I Heart NYC

people can say what they will about obnoxious new yorkers, the smell of the subway, or the supposed lack of beauty that is the nyc skyline. but ever since i was a kid, nyc was the ultimate destination to make things happen. sure, the city has its idiosyncracies-- its bad habits that i could certainly live without...but for every moment of wanderlust that stirs me to travel abroad or just out of state...i always return home back to nyc. THIS love affair, unlike so many others, is going to last.

what i love most about new york is its many secrets--the hidden gems tucked away in corners of manhattan or brooklyn or queens that you don't often see, but stumble upon by accident. the first thing on my nyc to-do list was a visit to the fantastic Museum of the City of New York (MCNY). typically, people tend to head straight to The Met (which is definitely amazing and expansive) but not everyone ventures uptown a few more blocks, past 90th street (if even) to roam through museum mile's other cultural havens. asides from the MCNY, you can visit the Cooper-Hewitt museum, housed in the exquisite Carnegie Mansion. its a personal favorite of mine; meander through the rooms of exhibits (Cooper-Hewitt focuses on design so its permanent and rotating collection features everything from drawings and prints to glassware, books, and furniture) and then relax on the lawn of its beautiful private garden.

en route to the MCNY i took a detour into the north end of Central Park. as with many new yorkers, our ritualistic exploration of the park stops at the resevoir-- there's a tendency to forget that the park extends upwards to 110th street where both the landscape and pace are markedly different from its more crowd-centric mid and lower sections. i entered at 110th and Lenox as my eyes were quickly drawn to the expansive Harlem Meer-- the second largest lake in the park--and perhaps the prettiest section I've ever seen. it's perimeter is surrounded by a canopy of trees dotted with uncrowded benches, making it a perfect spot to sit, be quiet and just reflect. a few blocks south is the Conservatory Garden, the only formally planned garden in all of Central Park. this is truly a hidden wonder. once you pass through the gates, you're in a virtual oasis filled with a diversity of plant life-- flowers of all kinds, trimmed hedges, twisting trees--all set along immaculate pathways leading to lovely fountains, positioned as the garden's natural focal points. there are actually three distinct gardens here--each representing a particular european landscape style-- english, french, and italian. i took my time, sat by the fountain of the Three Dancing Maidens, and let the sound of trickling water wash over me, allowing all my neuroses to slip off and just float away. moments like this are so rare, and reminds me of why nyc is such a special place.

other NYC highlights in the past three weeks:

the aforementioned Museum of the City of New York-- go see the New York Changing photography exhibit. you will marvel at thetransformation this city has seen in the past 70+ years...and perhaps be saddened by the loss of architectural wonders from a bygone era.

http://www.mcny.org/exhibitions/current/87.html

take a guided tour of Governor's Island, a 90 acre land mass nestled between lower Manhattan and Brooklyn. it's a former military post but also contains layers of American (and New York) history dating back to American Revolutionary days. you can only take a guided tour on weekdays-- and I highly recommend it as you walk through the two forts and learn about the island's function as a former military community-- with everything from old victorian style homes, an old hospital, prison, church, and synagogue. the cost for the ferry ride over is just $6 and it makes for a lovely 2 hours.

http://www.governorsislandnationalmonument.org/

and when the cultural endeavors are done with, what's a better way to cap off a day than with a nice cold beer? how about nice cold $2 PBR tall boys (24 oz baby) and an awesome view to boot? forget the beach and head to Long Island City, Queens for the Water Taxi Beach Bar. this is by far the most relaxing, laid-back bar in the city. they've set up sand and benches on the edge of the Water Taxi terminal on the east river...and you can down cheap beer and munch on close to cheap burgers and dogs while watching the sun set over the manhattan skyline.

http://watertaxibeach.com/

Endings and Beginnings

2005-08-10T10:38:00.000-04:00

the day has come. its been 11 months in the making, but the exit strategy i crafted last september has now reached its long anticipated endpoint. today is finally my last day at a soul-sucking job that for better or worse, has changed my life. my tenure here has seen an endless array of frustration and self-doubt that on my lowest days (and there were too many to count), i felt demoralized, regrettful, and often wondered aloud, why bother?

the answer to that question is simple-- because it's all necessary. every shitty job and stupid decision is a necessary evil. so for every horrible moment at this company, there are surely ten thousand others that could rival it and have left me worst off. so now, on my last day, i can say with certainty that if i got a re-do on the past year and half, i'd probably make the same plays, take the same hits . its cheezy to admit, but every mis-step just leads to yet another life lesson. so as i get ready to close this door (more like SLAM it shut) and gingerly open the next...i'd like to commemorate this very significant day with a glass half full review of the good and the less than stellar...

things i will miss:

1) the few amazing friends i've made. i never would have survived through a SINGLE day without them. lifesavers, i tell you. although i'll miss the daily banter, i won't miss the hourly bitch sessions.

2) afternoon breaks for Porto Rico coffee (the best in the city, IMHO). it was the perfect way to take a breather from a crappy work issue. funny how those happend nearly every day around 3:30pm....sigh.

3) lunchtime walks through soho. this is the most ideal part of town to work in.

4) the paycheck

5) the paycheck. yep, i will miss this TWICE as much when i'm a poor, ramen-eating grad student.

things i will NOT miss:

1) my boss' incessant croaking voice.

2) the unisex bathrooms. you would think i work with heathens...why would anyone pee on the seat, forget to flush, and leave dirty napkins (don't ask) just lying around the sink and floor?

3) my boss' incessant nail biting.

4) attending yet another dick-measuring contest. which, is really what a meeting is like at this company. alright already, you're ALL small! geez...

5) the endless construction work on my floor. sure, NOW they bring in the cute handymen when i leave. but the last 10 months previous, the floor was teeming with smarmy, drooling workers who stared at my butt while excavating abestos-laden concrete from the walls.

the last few weeks have been an exercise of bipolar emotions: one moment, i'd be crying in frustration, disappointed at what little tangible value I leave behind...but then in another moment, I'm dancing down the aisles, walking in hungover from a celebratory meal with friends...crazy happy to start a new life stage. six years after leaving the classroom, i'm heading back as a grad student, continuing the quest for My Dream Job.

peace out! it's been real.

Say It! I'm Your Beeyatch...ramblings and then some

2005-07-14T17:54:00.000-04:00

my lame duck employee status doesn't account for the fact that i'm a Total Nerd--dorking out and getting all pissy over the fact that my boss is an idiot and my company is ludicrously dysfunctional. it ain't going to change, i don't know why i continue to try. so i need to learn to detach myself from this soul-sucking alternate world (20 work days left baby!) even though it's tough when I spend 8+ hours of my daily existence here. so instead of continuing this self-indulgent, blog confessional...i'll ramble about some semi-interesting, non-serious goings-on...

The Emmy Noms

still in my jammys at 8:40 am this morning, my neighbors probably thought a LUNATIC inhabited my apartment when i screamed in glee as Zach Braff's name was announced for a best actor emmy. FINALLY. after four years of producing some of the funniest, goofiest, most touching performances on the funniest, goofiest, most touching comedy on television (see previous blog), mr. braff and his brilliant show Scrubs gets its due recognition. E's tv critics kept saying that the exit of former comedy stalwarts like Friends, Sex and the City, and Frasier left the door open for some newbie nominees. My reaction? WHAAAA? Those aforementioned shows suffered from an inconsistent level of quality in their twilight years and yet still dominated at the emmys...while shows like Scrubs and Arrested Development are actually producing fresh, interesting shows on a weekly basis. case in point: this year, Will & Grace tied for the most noms for a comedy-- do people still WATCH that show? hasn't it become an endless parade of guest stars?

other emmy thumbs-ups: a nod to Terry O'Quinn (aka, the is-he-creepy-or-is-he-not Locke on Lost) and one for Sandra Oh's sassy surgery intern from Grey's Anatomy...you Go Girl! Asian chick representin'...and who doesn't LOVE Jeremy Piven playing the asshole "let's hug it out bitch" Ari on Entourage...man, i miss having hbo. he kicks ass.

Happy Bastille Day!!!

woohoo...paris may have lost out on the 2012 Olympics...but who will ever forget the French Revolution? okay, okay, who will ever forget the French Revolution as displayed in all its dramatic glory in Les Miserables? Sing it with me! Do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of angry men...la la la la la la...good stuff, man. good stuff.

during lunch, I walked over to this little french restaurant in soho, aptly named Provence, to view their street Bastille celebration. it took all the discipline i could muster to resist a free (FREE!) glass of veuve cliquot and to turn away from watching a curious game of petanque, which was being played by some rather attractive people. who are these attractive people who can escape from their jobs to sip bubbly and toss steel balls into the sand? Who? I ask, who?

Muting Harry Potter Fever

2 days left before the sixth Harry Potter hits stores and I STILL haven't finished the fifth one yet. i know, i suck. it's the procrastinator in me...but now i am 3 chapters in and on a mission to finish it, so i can be all up to speed with all the crazy potter-heads gearing up for the sixth book. the crappy thing is i can't turn on a tv or radio without hearing about the 6th book...and since i'm still paging through the 5th one...i have to mute EVERYTHING so not to ruin any shocking twists unveiled in this one. man, i really suck. 880 pages to go...

Worst Ballpark? Maybe. Charmless? Definitely Not.

2005-07-06T23:49:00.000-04:00

last sunday's NYTimes featured a great (and personally resonant) story on the impending demise of Shea Stadium as the home of NY's terminal underdogs, The Mets:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/03/nyregion/thecity/03feat.html

if you're not a Mets fan, you just won't understand the magnitude of this. Shea Stadium is F-UGLY. it was built at the furthest stop of the #7 train, nudged between Flushing's Asian Center and a no-man's section of Queen's, squarely sitting in the direct flight path of Laguardia airport. the stadium itself was constructed in this half-ass manner, disguising a shoddy interior (which smells as if it hasn't been cleaned since its opening in 1964) with a garish splash of bright blues and oranges throughout. and don't even get me started on the over-sized baseball figures lit in neon on the stadium's side. this was not a place built for dreams to happen.

but in spurts, dreams did happen, and continue to. many times these dreams came in the form of miracles-- think Game 6 of the 1986 World Series and the ball Mookie Wilson hit that rolled through Buckner's legs--providing the team with a moniker even a losing record can't shake off. My love affair with the Miracle Mets started 20 years ago, when my uncle took me and my family to a game right in the heat of summer. we had box seats, four rows behind left field. it was mitt night and my brother and i didn't just have our first stadium hot dog, but our first taste of Mets euphoria. there is nothing better-- or cheesier-- than shrieking and dancing in the orange-clad stands with a crowd of giddy strangers, watching a giant (and kitschy) red apple rising out of that top hat behind centerfield, signifying that the home team had hit a ball outta the park! this is what it means, i thought, to be a sports fan.

my brother and i were hooked. the 1986 World Series victory cemented The Mets as Our Team, continuing even through our move to Maryland 5 years later, through the team's frustrating and sustained downfall in the early-mid 90's when they were the butt of EVERYONE's jokes. we remained loyal even still, when we thought it couldn't get any worse in the late 90's-- as fate (and money) would dictate that our hated hometown rivals-- and superiors--the NY Yankees, were destined to rekindle their history-cloaked dynasty, forever relegating The Mets to second-class status in a city fixed on drawing a line between winners and losers.

Losers or not, The Mets will always be lovable ones, characterized by a blue-collar determination and a badass charm that shines beyond the shadow of Yankee lore. sure, i have no idea if and when my Mets will ever feel the glory of another World Series victory (can we please get a new relief pitching staff?), but i'll never forget these games at Shea. Their life began when this park opened its doors, so Shea is very much a part of the team fabric, woven into every bruise that defines The Mets gritty personality. and despite its downright ugliness, despite it being labeled the Worst Ballpark Ever, it's still worst in the best way: it's the perfect symbol for underdogs, both on and off the field, who return every year to play and cheer for the hope of miracles.

"Watching" Wimbledon

2005-06-30T16:51:00.000-04:00

for those of us tennis whores who live in the U.S. and are forced to "work" for a living, finding a decent way to follow Wimbledon matches throughout the fortnight is challeging. tennis is best experienced *live*-- you can't appreciate the mix of athletic prowess and shot strategy that goes into this sport by watching the points change on an online scoreboard. it's just not the same. but i give kudos to the official Wimbledon website, who's nifty real-time scoreboard provides an abundance of geeky tennis stats (wha? Davenport's 1st serve % is less than 60%) and match tracking options (the Shot Tracker function is very cool-- giving viewers an animated simulation of how certains points are won).

but what i want is live streaming video. short of me placing a tv in my cube (now, you think the boss will get suspicious?), where can i get access to this? especially since tomorrow is the gentlemen's semis-- i'd love to see federer kick some hewitt ass while i pretend to work on a price model.

Country Girl?

2005-06-29T22:22:00.000-04:00

one of my fantasies is to live on a farm. for a month. sometimes, i've just had ENOUGH with yet another homeless man squeezing next to me on the subway. and the smell of urine emanating from street corners after it rains? it just gets old. i want to wake up the moment before the sun creeps over the horizon, milk cows and churn butter, pick my own food straight out of God's earth and walk miles before coming across a neighbor. yea, it's tempting to Go Rural. right?

okay, don't get me wrong, i am a City Girl. just one with pseudo-crunchy country aspirations. i love hiking and the sound of water rushing over rocks. but i hate bugs and prefer access to modern plumbing (sorry, but charmin is MUCH better than a leaf on your ass!). even though farm life may not translate into my romantic notions, muggy days in the city make me yearn for something more...nature-y. and no, as much as i love it, Central Park does not equal Nature. so what to do? well, this past weekend, my jewish sista and I decided to break out our chaps and harvesting gloves to go horseback riding and strawberry picking out in the country (or, as much "country" as western new jersey can offer).

we signed up for our day trip through one of nyc's many niche social organizations, Adventure Society, which focuses on arranging a multitude of urban (yoga, cooking classes) and extreme (paragliding, rafting) adventure trips for the city's i-love-the-outdoors crowd. this was my first trip with AS-- most trips on their calendar fill up quick as they aim to keep each trip small (less than 20 people)-- and i was impressed with the level of organization. every logistic was managed by a team leader who led us through the entire day, including driving us to/from the city using the org's minivan. the only thing i had to worry about was not pissing off my horse.

we had a three hour trail ride (my first time EVER on a horse!), meandering past crystal clear streams, old wooden footbridges and farmhouses. despite the sweltering heat, it was gorgeous. and though my horsey, cimmaron, was just a little crazy (i swear, i fought with l'il cimmy the first 15 minutes cuz all he wanted to do was eat EVERY TREE on the trail), i really enjoyed my virgin riding experience. but the highlight for me was strawberry picking. under blazing sun, tali and i were down on our hands and knees (shut up) picking the sweetest, reddest strawberries EVER. man, i now have a sincere appreciation for strawberry pickers. a lot goes in to that $3.99 box you buy from gristedes. trust me.

getting away from the city and communing with nature was wonderful, but exhuasting. next time, i'll try the hike and spa combo trip. because lemme tell you, three days AFTER the trip, i am still all kinds of sore in almost every spot of my body. damn cimmy, you did a number on me.

Ex and the City

2005-06-21T18:13:00.000-04:00

in a city of over a bajillion people, what are the odds of running into your ex? 100,000 to 1? 10,000 to 1? i beg any statisticians out there to build a model and tell me. because i really want some mathematical understanding of this. new york city is one of the biggest cities in the world, and i have an embarrassingly small sample size of men i've dated (fyi, i'm using "dated" loosely, as in gone out with on >3 dates) which equates to a whopping total of 4, two of which can be termed "exes"(again, defined loosely as someone i dated for > 3 months). see? tragically small. really, a meager pool of men to Not Run Into. Again.

forget the math, just look at the logic-- 2 out of a bajillion! it is just unrealistic to expect that you'll see, much less run into an ex again. unless of course, you work with your ex. in which case, i'm sorry, but that sucks. my advice: get a new job. and it doesn't count if you're stalking your ex either. because if you're unprepared to see him then you're just a dumb-ass any way. duh, you're going to SEE the guy, that's the point of stalking! so don't get upset if the prick is making out with another girl already. you created the drama, baby.

the point is, you're never totally prepared. and even if you harbor zero i-miss-him feelings and possess no ill will towards him (who are we kidding, there's always a little ill-will, that bastard!)-- the first time you see him again, your EX, you can't help but be jostled by it. even just a little. and that's what it was like for me. in a rush of 10 long minutes i was brought back into those moments of when we were together (last summer) and reminded of all those mistakes (sticking it out too long) i vowed never to make again.

i didn't actually run into The Ex, but i saw him randomly. the scene played out like this: picnicking with friends at one of those "quintessential" nyc outdoor events, i looked around me, scanning the crowd...and there he was. these were my thoughts, in quick succession:

1) oh look, i use to date him

2) he looks the same

3) hm...is he here with a girl? is she asian? i wonder if she's pretty and/or skinny

and then, i had to look away because God Forbid he sees me. because then what? what happens? if we make eye contact, we'll have to talk, right? do we make idle chit chat and pretend we've never slept together? puh-leez. that's just too prosaic. what's the other option? IGNORE the fact that we both saw each other, that's just more awkward. and just because you don't care about the person anymore, you still care about what they think of you and how they see you. admit it. we all want to look our best if we run into an ex. so i just faced the opposite direction and prayed he'd sit down already and not notice me in the not-so-far distance.

some of you may think i'm a coward...or maybe you think i'm foolish. it really doesn't matter. cuz for me, after i break up with someone (and contrary to popular belief, THIS guy and i had a civilized and mature break up) , i really have no desire to see that person again. we're done with each other and we can't be friends because we weren't in the first place. is it wrong to think this way? who knows. i just want someone to answer me this: what are the odds of this happening again? cuz next time, i'm gonna look HOT. or at least try my damn best to. :)

that's it, I QUIT!

2005-06-14T10:42:00.000-04:00

for months, i've been plotting my "fantasy quitting scenario"--which ranges from pushing everything off my desk and storming off in a rage to flicking off my boss and screaming "I QUIT, and I'm taking the PLANT WITH ME!!!" yes, there's a plant by my desk. it all makes sense, trust me. or my favorite scenario, erasing all the templates/reports/analyses i DIDN'T save on the public drive so when my boss asks for an archive of my work (he's an idiot, and would need all this stuff to justify both his existence and his purported intelligence)-- i'd respond with a "oops, i'm sorry. i accidently erased everything for security reasons." mwwaaahahhaaa. it was all just TOO GOOD.

the actual moment was quite anti-climatic, lacking the dramatic exits i played out in my head although still fulfilling in its own quiet way. almost a year and a half ago, i left a pretty cush and upwardly mobile job at a huge but socially responsible company, to come to this dysfunctional hell-hole (at that time, it disguised itself as a "growing education company"--ha!). it was a bit of a career risk for me and obviously, i didn't know what i was getting into. in the past nightmare-ish 17 months i've been condescended to, disregarded, screamed at, pushed to tears at least six times, overlooked, talked to like an idiot, talked to like a "girl" not a professional woman, ignored because i am a girl, and learned that the only way to succeed in this alternate reality of an organization is to be ultra-aggressive and confrontational (read: beome a crazy obnoxious bratty beeyatch). oh yea, its been good times.

so last week, i officially gave notice-- and now every day leading up to my last day (tbd, sometime in early august) is just a ride down "oh yea, make me!" lane. see ya suckas! it's been un-real.

suffering from LMA disorder

2005-06-12T23:29:00.000-04:00

at what point do you start to lose a sense of all your standards? and i'm not talking ethical standards (although a factor, perhaps) but your standards for the opposite sex (or the same sex, whichever is your preference, this is an Equal Opportunity blog). for me, i think its the point where any attention-- whether it be from a UPS truck driver or the homeless man on the subway-- is more ego-boosting than no attention at all.

yes my friends, i have LMA disorder. and i need help. LMA = Low Male Attention. a condition that affects any chick (or gay man) who hasn't gotten any play in at least six months. you may have it too, you just don't know it yet. and for those of you trying to deal with this in a reasonable way, i want to say-- i understand you sista, i do. just last week, i returned the cat-call of an oily construction worker-- i even thanked him for noticing. when did it get this bad? will i flirt with just anyone? yes, yes i will. i'm not sure what the cure for LMA may be, but i'm thinking great sex with a hot man (let's say, hugh jackman or brad pitt) would suffice. any suggestions on what else i could do? i'm mere seconds away from giving the coffee guy my number...he likes the way i dig change out of my wallet. okay, that didn't come out right. save me from myself!!!

The Doctor is In! "Scrubs: Season 1" finally on DVD

2005-06-03T23:50:00.000-04:00

need a prescription for a strong, laugh-out-loud-yet touching comedy? well, you're in luck! get addicted to a tv show like no other: the brilliant but tragically underrated Scrubs has finally issued its fantastic season 1 on dvd! all the tv execs, critics, and most critically, nielsen families, who've lamented the demise of the sitcom obviously have not fully embraced (or perhaps even seen) the HIL-ariousness that is Scrubs.

i first fell in love with this little show about hapless medical interns turned almost capable doctors four years ago when i flipped onto the series' emotional, and truly excellent, fourth episode-- "My Old Lady." i nearly peed my pants when one character, shocked by a patient's response, literally received a delivery of a ton of bricks. get it? GET IT? before i could recover from laughing pains, the show reaches a poignant conclusion, reflecting on the fragile cycle of life and death always present in the hospital. i had never seen a show like this. Scrubs, shot in single-camera format, features innovative storytelling techniques-- most prominently in the form of a pseudo-internal monologue voiced by the show's central character, Dr. JD Dorian (played by the endearingly adorable Zach Braff-- who i hope will be my future husband. Zach, if you're reading this, call me!). JD's rich interior life infuses each episode with the most ludicrous fantasy sequences, ultimately revealing each character's secret fears and hopes.

season 1 follows this set of crazy and amazingly human characters--doctors, nurses, a creepy janitor-- through a story arc where they each grow, disappoint, and fall in and out of love with each other and their chosen profession. in addition, the dvd set includes all the cool bonus stuff a Scrubs fanatic has patiently waited for-- a "making of" featurette, interviews with each of the cast members, alternate lines, deleted scenes, and an outtakes reel. for a snoozefest summer of bad tv, this is pretty awesome.

so i bought the box set 2 weeks ago and watched all 24 eps over a 3-day period (i'm weirdly obsessive like that)--at the end of which i wondered aloud-- why the fuck is this show not a bigger hit? what the hell is wrong with America that the best quality comedies are usurped by the boring likes of Two and a Half Men or worst, the vomit-inducing According to Jim. THAT is what Americans think is funny? oh the national travesty.

sigh. it saddens me that the fate of Scrubs for next season is still up in the air-- nbc (damn you tv execs! don't you know that Joey sucks ass?) has yet to determine when it will come back on the schedule-- and the second best comedy on tv, the equally brilliant and hilarious Arrested Development barely eeked out the to-cut list. please America. i beg thee. buy this dvd, find out what you're missing, and help make sure Scrubs doesn't go into television's I.C.U. my sense of humor (and all that is right with the world) begs you.

Twelve Angry Men vs. Glengarry Glen Ross?

2005-05-31T23:45:00.000-04:00

is there anything better than watching a group of desperately impatient men strut, seethe, and flaunt their testosterone like a well-worn suit? well...i can think of a few things but that will detract from the downright explosiveness of watching this theater season's sufficiently Man-ly slate of plays.

a stage full of un-naked men won't necessarily appeal to the post-feminist female audience...but the revival of two classic plays-- first, Twelve Angry Men and most recently, Glengarry Glen Ross, reminds me of why live theater is one of the most thoroughly satisfying cultural experiences out there. native new yorkers who don't take advantage of it, shame on you cuz you're missing out. because the men on the stage all give knockout performances--seamlessly channelling their characters, moving stories along by their words only--there are no plot gimmicks or silly special effects. just words. and sometimes, a lot of yelling and cursing.

up to bat first this 2005 theater season was Twelve Angry Men, which recently (and sadly) closed here in NYC. luckily, i caught it a few months ago with discount tix from work, which promised the Best Theater Experience Ever. melodrama aside, this tagline would not disappoint. the aforementioned cast of twelve interrogate, demean, judge, and eventually, reconstruct each other's moral compass as they attempt to reach a decision on a what seemed to be an open-and-shut murder case. but for one scene played during my freshman year management class (it was suppose to be an example of working in teams--ha!), i had never seen the original 1957 film. so the drama played out a fresh revelation of each piece of evidence-- exposing half-truths along with each man's agenda, and ultimately, doubts. the story, though half a century old, still seems relevant and i walked away from the show--which ran at a slim 90 minutes with no intermission-- unnerved by the play's moral lesson and grateful for the chance to witness such an amazing ensemble cast. each of the twelve actors gave astounding visceral performances--not one a household name, although all were theater veterans. however, other theater geeks may recognize Boyd Gaines-- who broke hearts and inspired dorky white guys everywhere to take a chance and dance-- in Susan Stroman's Contact a few years ago. his interpretation of the Juror who is the first to question everything, is a highlight.

Glengarry Glen Ross, which opened to rave reviews in early May, may contain a cast half its size, but outshines Twelve when it comes to star power. Alan Alda, Liev Schreiber, Gordon Clapp, and Jeffrey Tambor are all a part of this stellar cast of sleezy, verbally abusive set of real-estate salesmen who would do anything--lie, cheat, steal-- to "get the premium leads." i just came back from seeing the show and am still wowed over by its quick-paced abrasive dialogue and dumpy, but effective staging. unfortunately for me, this time i had seen the movie before (again, back in college...do all business courses reference movies as an easy way out?) so the only surprise was the play's duration-- clocking in at roughly 90 minutes. this story also has significant moral undertones-- but unlike Twelve, it isn't the lesson that resonates so much as the stunning performances of the leads-- i will put money on either Schreiber or Alda winning a Tony this weekend. both playing against type-- Schreiber as a slick, arrogant asshole of a sales guy on a hot streak; Alda completely decimating the good guy routine he's famous for, is Schreiber's perfect foil playing the down-on-his luck loser trying to find a way--any way-- to get back in the game.

in terms of which show is better?-- its a draw. Twelve had more emotional impact, as months later, i still recall its affecting resolution. but both made me remember why i love living in nyc-- access to such near-perfect performances is something we don't all get to appreciate, much less experience. hopefully, next season, the women will get their turn to wow audiences over.

Fountains of Wayne Rock!

2005-05-25T21:13:00.000-04:00

the other day, i went to the Fountains of Wayne concert at Central Park. it was part of this sing-a-thon fundraiser type event to raise money for homeless children. and as the sage FoW lead singer said-- who doesn't support children without homes? hehehe. okay, lame joke. in any case, for those that don't know FoW outside of their pivotal radio-hit-turned-pepsi-commercial-theme-song tune "Stacy's Mom"-- they are a fun, laid-back, tongue-in-cheek power pop band from new york. their songs are about everyday things: an asshole boss, a shitty relationship, why high school sucked, and of course, football...you know, regular stuff. but each song is infused with catchy hooks and up-tempo, rock-out guitar riffs. despite the lack of a real audience(the rain didn't help) FoW gave an energetic, self-deprecating performance of some of their best tracks. some personal faves of mine: "Hey Julie!," (a personal anthem when i'm having a crappy day at work) done acoustic style, "Hackensack," and "Radiation Vibe." good stuff. and despite an awesome 9'X 12' plastic tarp my friend W (genius!) brought for us to huddle under(which resulted in a narsty-ass viral infection i'm still forced to endure), they have become, in my mind, a band I must catch live as MUCH AS POSSIBLE. check out more about them here.

To Do Lists

2005-05-23T19:11:00.000-04:00

for the past month, i've been watching The Today Show's "Live for Today" segment. they've compiled a list of the 50 Things to Do in A Lifetime and go on to fulfill each one with a lucky viewer. sometimes it's cheezy, sometimes i cry...but honestly, i found it to be vaguely inspiring. i mean, who doesn't have a list of things they want accomplish in their life? even people who don't make lists have a list like this.

so this will be Part I of an infinity number of lists i plan to compile. this can of course range from a list of "favorites" (books, movies, albums, foods etc.) to a list of ideals (men, vacations, etc.) to the the ol' mundane grocery list (hey, i need to write things down somewhere...hehe). so here goes...

My Top Ten Things to Do In My Lifetime

first, i just want to preface this with saying that some things i've always wanted to do i've been lucky enough to already achieve. for instance, i've always wanted to go ziplining and swim with sharks. well, if you read my Belize post...check. and check. not that i wouldn't want to do those things again...but this is a list of things that STILL NEED TO BE DONE in my lifetime. also, "things to do" don't necessarily equate to "crazy adventure-y stuff" but can be simple dreams too (see # 9). and lastly, this is my top ten for now...it can and will change as something is achieved...or if the dream just doesn't seem that important any more.

1. Visit my parents hometown

Both my parents were both born in Southern China, outside the city of Guangzhou. My dad immigrated to the U.S. as an 8-year old kid; my mom moved to Hong Kong prior to immigrating to the U.S. via Canada as a 16 year old. although we've taken two family vacations to China, we have not yet ventured into the villages they were born in. i know that this is a dream of my parents too so i hope to share this experience with them.

2. Go Skydiving

Back in 2001, i had planned a trip with some girlfriends from work to go skydiving on Long Island. Unfortunately, we had planned to go the week after September 11...needless to say, none of us had the desire (or the guts) to throw ourselves out of a plane after all the trauma we endured during that terrible time. however, i am ready now and am looking for jumping partner...preferably one who won't let me chicken out before the doors open!

3. Become a Mother

This "goal" is a little out of my control...but i hope it happens...

4. Play tennis at Wimbeldon

Okay, I am not even close to good enough to step onto Wimbledon's fabled centre court BUT i am an ardent tennis fan and despite my poor serve, it's the sport i truly love playing. so although one of my dreams is to attend a Wimbeldon final and have a bowl of strawberries & cream, i think it would be so KICK ASS to get a chance to play on one of their grass courts, hit a backhand down the line and pretend to scream in victory!!! oh, and preferably play with a hot pro on the other side of the net. but i probably shouldn't dream too much.

5. Explore the Galapagos Islands

it has been my dream to travel to the place where Darwin founded his theory on evolution. anyone who knows me will be quick to say that science is not my best subject. but my inner geek has always wanted go, learn about its unique ecosystem, and maybe play with seals...

6. Start my own business

This is my practical goal. I have no idea what my Big Idea is going to be yet...but I think running my own business--be it a consulting firm or a nonprofit org-- may become my most rewarding professional accomplishment.

7. Sing in a cabaret lounge

no, not a karoake lounge...a cabaret lounge. i am not a great singer (although i pretend to be one in my shower) but singing old school gershwin or cole porter tunes at a piano lounge would be a weird fantasy come true... let's just hope i don't break any ear drums.

8. Hike the grand canyon with my brother

five years ago, i was looking down into towards the colorado river deep inside the grand canyon and thought-- my bro and i should totally hike down there together. it will be grueling, but will make for an amazing sibling-bonding experience. you see, my bro feels as if he's been hampered in his life from doing fun, outdoorsy activities due to our over-protective and conservative parents. we're totally different people, but in those rare opportunities we've gone hiking-- its been a pretty good time. so as pseudo-independent adults, i'd like the chance to do this some place very idyllic and american like the grand canyon or yellowstone...

9. Find my elementary school crush

Okay, I'm a dork. but i've always wanted to find this guy i had a crush on in 5th grade...he was my first REAL CRUSH and it would be kinda fun (and awkward) to see what he looks like now and maybe, oh i don't know...have dinner and get married...okay, just kidding about my marriage part. maybe.

10. Write a book

this is a pipe dream i've nursed since i won a writing contest in 5th grade. sadly, i have not much to show since then asides from a crap journal and this silly blog. i'd love to do a series of travel essays...or write a comic memoir about my dysfunctional (but loving) family...

10 + 1. (hee, i couldn't stop at 10) Learn to Tango in Argentina

Remember that scene in "Scent of a Woman" where a blind Al Pacino tangoes in a restaurant with a stranger? Yea, me too. its a good scene. and the tango is one of those Great Passionate Dances that i must learn...in Argentina. preferably after a really good steak dinner. i hear they have really good meat there...mmm...meat...

Weezer tries to "Make Believe"

2005-05-15T21:25:00.000-04:00

some bands, and specifically some albums, are more than just a cultural reference point, but a touchstone for one's own personal history. for me, weezer's eponymous debut album, known by the emo masses as the Blue Album brings me straight back to senior year in high school. it was fall 1994, and i would rock out behind closed doors to "in the garage" and "say it ain't so" while attempting to pen my college application essays.

luckily for me, the album's power pop sound and confessional lyrics were more adrenaline-inducing vs. distracting, sending me into college, primed and ready for angst and self-discovery. which was why Weezer's second album, released during my sophomore year-- the sometimes angry, often dour, and always catchy Pinkerton-- sealed the deal for me: Weezer was My Band. i was freakishly obsessed. i re-read every tortured lyric, pined after geeky front-man Rivers Cuomo, played each song over and over until every exploding guitar riff found its place as a personal anthem. will i ever get over this? could another band ever mean as much to me?

well, the answer would be yes. and yes. my obsession was real, but so was my short attention span. Rivers and crew waited five years to put out two consecutive albums that amped up the power pop but forgot the soulful introspection that brought them to cult status. i had, in turn, gone from insecure collegiate to wannabe yuppy. so now, on the cusp of my late twenties ready to discard yuppy status, the band has released a new album rumored to be more closely aligned in tone and sound to the earlier ones i had been so attached to. sure, its been ten years, but i was ready to Make Believe.

a recent Rolling Stone cover story illustrated Weezer as a band mired in dysfunction, one where Cuomo's quirks and ego dominates every track. Cuomo spent much of his three-year hiatus seeking peace and celibacy through meditation and the result is a fifth album that is at once introspective and unapologetically optimistic. the album's first track, already an MTV staple as the video was shot at the Playboy Mansion, seems to shout out "Look! The Geeks have made it!" while other tracks, such as "This is Such A Pity" sounds like it could have come straight off a Depeche Mode album-- when did Weezer become a New Wave band?

however, these deviations aside, the album has some real gems reminding me of the Classic Weezer i first fell for. "Perfect Situation" opens with a 40 second punk-pop guitar solo before plunging straight into a quick-tempo song about fear, love, longing and loneliness, eventually leading into a power ballad type chorus. i have a feeling its a track i'll be putting on repeat a lot. "Hold Me" and "Haunt You Every Day" continue along this same theme of self-doubt, very much in the vein of Pinkerton. other tracks, such as "Pardon Me" and "Peace" are reflective and somewhat hopeful-- it's as if all the meditation is allowing Rivers to finally forgive himself.

in the end, nothing will ever replace the impact of Weezer's earlier breakthrough albums. but, maybe that's okay. i'm older and wiser (supposedly) now too and can learn to appreciate that as a band ages, it's expected that they will let go of the issues that once defined them...so long as they don't forget what makes them essentially who they are. you should only be allowed to Make Believe some of the time.

Having a Bad Day at Work? Me Always!!!

2005-05-09T15:12:00.000-04:00

so my wonderific friend Jenny Benny fowarded this list to me the other day and i just had to post it here. after a crappy couple of months at work (and its only getting worse, i swear!) , i figure there comes a point where the line drawn between Work and Reality should be filled with constant mocking and unrelenting sarcasm...in fact, I've decided to employ # 3 every time my boss asks me to do something. hahaha.

Ways to Keep your Sanity
1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car WithSunglasses on and point A Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't DisguiseYour Voice.

3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with That.

4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It"In".

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. OnceEveryone Has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions,Switch To Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Sexual Favors"

7. Finish all Your Sentences With "In Accordance WithThe Prophecy."

8 don't use any punctuation

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."

11. Sing Along At The Opera.

12. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don'tRhyme

13. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play Tropical Sounds All Day.

14. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream "I Won!,I Won!"

15. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards TheParking Lot, Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They'reLoose!!"

16. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."

Wha??? Can Men Hear it Too?

2005-05-04T19:57:00.000-04:00

a few years back, the media was a-buzz with a study confirming that a woman's fertility begins to decline once they reach the age of 27. in fact, most articles came with a fun little graph to remind you exactly when The Decline begins and The Clock starts to get really loud. This! That's when you become desperate!

of course, the news also released a slew of talk about the plight of the Aging Single Woman...you couldn't turn on the tv or open up a magazine without the deluge of warnings: The risks of putting your career before marriage! More women over thirty struggle to get pregnant! Don't. Wait. Too. Long.

last year, i turned 27 and haven't heard the tick tick tick of desperation. yet. but you can imagine my relief, and secret glee, to the recent news that wait--MEN hear it too!

http://newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/nightlife/sex/columns/mating/11809/

yes siree, defying stereotype, it seems that the other gender is also physiologically wired to-- gasp!-- settle down, make babies, and purchase a minivan. now, is this true for nyc men as well? because i swear, i meet guys that can barely commit to a 3-hour movie...nevertheless...

ugh, has it really been TEN YEARS?!?!

2005-05-03T15:04:00.000-04:00

last night, i received my invitation to my ten year high school reunion. that's right, TEN FRIGGIN YEARS. sometimes the decade went by waaaaay too quickly as i am definitely not close to where i thought i would be at this point in my life. let's see, at 16, i was convinced that by the time it was 10-year reunion time, i'd surely be married (ahem, nope. certifiably single here) and possibly pregnant (good LORDY no, not even close to ready for that) and very much settled in my life (settled? dude, i can barely decide what to wear in the morning).

sigh. guess a teenage outlook into the future is much too misinformed. let's just hope everyone else's was as well. my goal, go for the fun of it...because the gossip factor will be too much to resist...plus the prospect of showing up those that tortured you in the past. high school was not my favorite time (honestly, i was glad to leave) but i got through it without so much trauma to need therapy. yet. however, i can't say the same for my FIFTH year reunion (you know who you are...screaming my name when my former high school crush walked into the room, can we say, age-regression?). and to a particular friend (you know who you are)...if you're reading this, you MUST make the trip back with me.pretty please? its my birthday weekend and i will NEED a drinking companion!

Belize Travelogue Part I: Forgetting time, swinging through trees...and sometimes the lights went out

2005-04-28T23:14:00.000-04:00

just a few days ago, i returned from a fan-tabulous weeklong vacay in Belize. it was much needed time away-- the past year has been pretty stressful so by departure time, I was more than ready to rid myself of all negative energy and just GET AWAY from it all. and boy did we. the time spent down there was incredible and filled with many once-in-a-lifetime experiences...i could barely tear myself away from it but i am absolutely sure i will be back again.

Belize had been on my list of "dream destinations" for some time. after frequent (and enjoyable) trips to traditional caribbean spots--aruba, dominican republic, st. thomas--i was in search for something a bit more unique, with the air of the unexplored. Belize provided that fix: a mix of adrenaline-inducing eco-adventures with slow days relaxing under the sun just zoning out. i started a blog as a way to recount and relive my time there. its always a little sad when you have these amazing travel stories and then one month later, all the details that made the trip so wonderful, including your tan, begin to fade-- the people you meet, that great meal, a one special view-- doesn't it deserve to continue to live somewhere? so this is my desperate attempt to justify each daily experience. please bear with me. and hopefully, others will be inspired to visit as well...but not TOO many peeps...because i'd hate for a place as under-developed and beautiful as Belize to become just another caribbean destination over-run with tourists clamoring into yet another all-inclusive resort. Let’s keep this our little secret, okay?

DAY 1-- It doesn't matter how long it takes to get there...

anticipation is probably one of the best feelings in the world. It’s hard to beat the excitement of getting ready for a well-deserved vacation. two months of obsessive planning (i like to refer to it as productive procrastination, since i detest my job) finally led to this moment-- the first day of the trip! i was traveling with my college bud and annual travel-partner-in-crime, Mandy, and my cousin Carolyn for a full week of zero stress (my other college bud, Eleanor, would join us later in the week). so what if we had a 6am flight and barely 3 hours of sleep? vacations have a way of taking care of all of that...

Belize is located in Central America, on the western most side of the caribbean sea, south of Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula. it is barely the size of New Jersey. a number of major airlines fly directly into Belize City via Dallas, Miami, or Charlotte. we flew from NYC via Miami on American Airlines.

TRAVELER’S NOTE:here is my little travel site plug. i did a lot of price shopping for airfare before this trip and found that Sidestep had the best user experience when it came to consolidating and comparing schedules and prices. it also has a sidebar tool you can download which will pull prices for you when you automatically go to any other travel site (ie. travelocity; orbitz). try it! let me know if you think something else is better.

our destination in belize was the loverly island of Ambergris Caye (pronounced "key"), located off the coast of northern belize. it is considered the “most touristy” section of the entire country— in that it offers the largest array of lodging, restaurant and nightlife options. it is not, by any means, the saturated tourist meccas of the bahamas, jamaica, or the virgin islands. Ambergris Caye is a small slice of paradise—only 25 miles long with one “large town”, San Pedro--where both locals and tourists go to play, relax, and enjoy the island’s remarkably cozy charm. its a place where the streets are filled with sand and the primary attire is always flip-flops, shorts, and a smile.

San Pedro consists of maybe eight distinct streets and is roughly 6 city blocks long. much of the island’s restaurants and small hotels (no big, crazy resorts here) reside here. however, we chose to stay south of town for a quieter experience. it is only a 10 minute taxi ride into town (and maybe a 30 minute walk along the beach).

in order to get to San Pedro, you have two options: (1) take a 15 minute flight out of Belize City or (2) take a 75 minute boat ride. we chose the one with the shorter duration…although, we probably could have taken a boat and arrived at the same time since the airline lost our confirmation (a long story that involves a national telecommunications shut-down—more on that later). so yes, the airline lost our reservation forcing us to hang out in the very small yet weirdly quaint Belize City airport for two hours, relishing the fact that at least we weren’t home working.

all inter-country flights are on small puddle jumpers—planes that hold maybe 15 people max, including the pilot. it’s a tight, somewhat stuffy experience (beware if you’re a claustrophobe) but the view makes up for any discomfort. as we took off, i could feel any residual stress carried over from my everyday life lift off as well. the flight is entirely over water, and from that vantage point you can appreciate the vastness of the sea’s myriad hues of blue and green and sometimes, if you looked closely, you could spot the shadow of life swimming beneath its surface.

Three flights and one taxi ride later…

we finally arrive at Ambergris Caye and head to our amazing hotel-- Banana Beach Resort, set on the southern side of the island facing eastward, overlooking the Caribbean sea. the website for this hotel does not do it justice—it is a charming, clean, and immensely attentive small resort set right on the water. the hotel is configured around a set of open courtyards and two freshwater pools and is decorated with a warm, simple island spirit. our room was AMAZING. if you can, splurge for one of the deluxe ocean suites (around $150 US per nite during high season)—it is not that much more expensive than some of the more budget options but is well worth it. our room was a one-bedroom deluxe suite that is larger than my apartment in nyc. and here’s the kicker: it had a large and exquisite covered balconyfacing the water—-we would spend many happy moments relaxing there, reminding ourselves that a good life is sometimes so easy to achieve.

banana beach, our hotel on the right

after settling in, we took a walk down the beach (where a friendly, stray dog acted as our guide) and went to a local store to stock up on beer, water, snacks, and lunch staples. we then relaxed on the aforementioned AMAZING balcony, sipping Belikens and admiring the view. Beliken is the official beer of Belize, locally brewed and MIGHTY TASTY. i wish they would export it to the states…it tastes so much better than red stripe and i’ve been missing it ever since returning home…

TRAVELER’S NOTE: everyone in belize speaks English—its one of the national languages. in addition, everyone accepts US$ so don't bother exchanging, but you’ll just get BZ$ in return. the exchange rate is $2BZ to $1US. nice and simple for those of us who want to use minimal brainpower while on vacay.

What happened to the power?

the day wound down. we were getting ready to grab some dinner when the lights suddenly went out. um…now what? well, instead of sitting in the dark, we headed out in hopes that the power outage was just related to our hotel. nope! the lights were out throughout the island—welcome to Belize! luckily, the Banana Beach staff was not deterred…have a drink!...as long as its not a frozen one…have some food!...as long as you prefer it grilled...

a power outage in nyc would be an extreme inconvenience (see: The Blackout of 2003) but one here on ambergris caye barely mires your mood. we settled into the courtyard tables and bonded with the other guests. one family sitting next to us had two adorable girls who kept asking me if i was Chinese or Japanese. as they were no more than 5 and 7, i was not offended…and instead, taught them to say “how are you” in cantonese. their parents, in an effort to explain their daughters boldness, told me that the girls have lived all around the world and are use to asking strangers such questions. currently, they live in montana (where the mother is from) but were off to visit Guatemala (where the father is from) later on their trip. we would run into them numerous times throughout the next two days…they are lovely people.

the power came back on during our delicious dinner of grilled snapper, rice ‘n beans (the best i’ve ever tasted) and a couple of strong martinis…we were ready for bed…and it was only 8pm! its vacation, we’re allowed to do whatever we want…which includes absolutely nothing.

DAY 2—Madonna sang it first…La Isla Bonita

we woke up to the brightest stream of sunshine spilling into our room. it was hard to resist the softness of the bed sheets but the sun was beckoning and surely it must be at least 10 am by now? i stepped out of bed to retrieve my watch and—what the?—holy cow, its only friggin 6am! i guess vacation will do that to you…screw up your personal clock...but in a good way…in fact, Mandy even forgot it was her birthday (Happy 28 Mandy!) until we saw the date on the CNN crawl on tv…hehehe.

for me and many of my friends, we have a sickly obsession with food. often, we’re caught having food-gasms in public. oh yea. mmm…sometimes, i still dream about my best meals..oh yea...which brings me to our first breakfast. [FYI: Banana Beach offers a complimentary breakfast worth $10 BZ that is a pretty good value] all of us ordered some carb-based breakfast classic: pancakes, waffles, or french toast. i had the apple cinnamon french toast made with a divinely thick and sweet bread. we also had the freshest juices—pineapple, orange, grapefruit—and Belizean coffee (which is so good, i had to bring some back with me).

on the agenda after breakfast—um, nothing! let’s start working on that tan. we grabbed seats facing the ocean…me and Carolyn aka The Sun Whores wanted as much sun as humanly possible…Mandy, who’s so white she may burn under strong fluorescent lighting, coveted coverage under a palm tree…where she proceeded to apply and re-apply sunscreen every thirty minutes. Hee.

TRAVELER’S NOTE:people don’t come to belize for its beautiful beaches…cuz frankly, i’ve seen better. if you want large stretches of soft white sand and easy swimming from shore—go to negril or the bahamas. instead, come to belize for its diverse and rich ecosystem and some of the friendliest, most hospitable people you’ll ever meet. and let’s be fair, belize’s beaches may be small, but it doesn’t diminish from its beauty and a water-lover’s paradise. look out over the turquoise ocean and if you stretch your eyes some more, you can see a soft white line of waves breaking over the second largest barrier reef system in the world.

we zoned out, got some sun, and when our stomachs gurgled (as they most certainly will after a tough morning of tanning), we retired to our room for sandwiches and belikens on the balcony. then back to more sun and zoning out…

Who knew chicken poo was so exciting?

although tanning can be such hard work, who were we to deny ourselves the opportunity to attend an (in)famous San Pedro event: The Chicken Drop. after enduring the second power outage of our stay (let’s start counting), we showered and headed into town to the Pier Lounge where this weekly poo-betting affair took place. and conveniently, this took place during happy hour—a perfect solution for those of us with a double hankering for rum punch.

tourists and locals from all over ambergris caye come to the Pier Lounge every wednesday nite for this nontraditional gambling game. what’s on the line? $100 BZ. how does it work? well let me tell you!

basically, on the beach outside the bar, there’s a pen set up around a board filled with 100 numbers. each number is worth $1BZ—once you hand your cash over to The Man—you then pick your number(s) randomly from a bowl. when all 100 numbers are sold, the lady who runs the bar (she’s an expat from Louisiana, i’ll call her Louisie) corrals everyone over to the pen (seriously, even if you have no money on it, you’ll wanna watch, her screeching southern drawl draws you in), The Man brings over the basket with the chicken (a live one, in case you were wondering) and then Louisie announces the rules:

1) someone (a volunteer, not her) picks up the chicken—actually it’s a rooster, but i guess that’s a technicality. and yes, he has a name…and his name is Rebel.
2) then, you are suppose to gently rock the rooster up and down three times…
3) and THEN, you blow on its arse…to jazzes up its bowels…i know…its gross and weird and TOTALLY fascinating!
4) THEN…put that baby down in the pen and await its poo! whatever number he poos on, is the winning number!!!

then the waiting begins. yep, grown men and women crowd around to watch and wait for a chicken, ahem, i mean rooster, poo. its really funny actually—everyone’s yelling and whistling and talking to the rooster to make it move to their number(s). anything goes…except, you CAN’T touch it. you can snap your fingers, wave your bag in front of it, whatever…just don’t. touch. the. Bird. and then…when you least expect it…it POOPS! the crowd goes crazy and the winner shrieks in ecstasy! sigh...it was funny while it lasted.

the whole evening is not just about chicken poop. its also about drinking and mixing with the locals. We met a group of guys led by their leader, The President. actually, they were tour operators and asides from some harmless flirting, they were perfectly friendly and non-harassing (which is not what one can say about locals from other Caribbean destinations). however, they were not friendly enough to persuade us to party the night away with them. i mean, c’mon, stay out past 10pm? puh-leez.

however…we can’t turn in without a good meal in our tummies. conveniently, there was a mexican restaurant located right next to Pier Lounge. Caliente was a perfect way to cap our evening. a round of margaritas followed by some of the best stuffed jalapeno peppers EVER. it was filled with two types of cheese that was extra yummy—not only was the pepper STUFFED with cheese but there was also cheese stuffed in-between the pepper and the fried part…oh yes, yummers. we also had conch ceviche…which was so light and tasty in its cucumber and carrot marinade, i vowed to eat conch EVERY DAY of vacation…mmm…conch…

DAY 3—BUTTS UP!…and does this harness come with wings?

remember how i said belize is a place where you can lose track of time? it's wonderful to have no sense of obligation…except when you’ve scheduled an all-day adventure tour and your pickup is at 7am. then it might be a good idea to put on a watch. brilliantly, we didn’t. so the Beach Police (yes, i’m not kidding) had to locate us at breakfast. the brisk walk to the pier laughing at ourselves didn’t exactly mask our shame…but our apologies were accepted by the other members of our party. its vacation, all’s good.

TRAVELER’S NOTE: visitors to belize have many options. i am first to admit that though our week was full,we only experienced a small portion of what the country has to offer. also, many visitors choose to first spend some time inland at a jungle resort (belize is known for great eco-lodges) and then head to one of the beach resorts. we chose to base ourselves at the beach and do all of our inland tours from there. the downside: the travel time necessary to get to the places inland can make the days seem gruelingly long. the upside: staying at the beach offered us a way to space out activities with much needed hammock time. me, i’m a beach fiend—love the sun, love the sand, love the ocean. there are numerous tour operators out in San Pedro that conduct adventure and eco-tours inland—some are truly excellent—and they will pick you up from your hotel’s pier (almost all hotels will have their own).

today was ADVENTURE DAY. our daylong activities are cave tubing and an aerial trek—that’s zip-lining baby! i was so excited. ever since i became an Amazing Race addict i’ve always wanted to go ziplining. which is ironic as i grew up in a home that taught me to be risk-averse. crossing the street during a red light was considered seriously risky. it was a childhood based in fear. fortunately for me, its only reinforced my desire to test myself and try things new…even if you’re scared out of your mind. however, i had to do a bit of gentle coercion in order to get Mandy (who has a fear of heights) and Carolyn (who has a fear of sketchiness…hehe) to commit to ziplining. but to be fair, i had to convince myself that there will be no spiders in the cave. hehe, always an arachnophobe…can’t get rid of that one.

it would take a boat, a plane, and a long van ride deep into the jungle of western belize to reach our adventure spot. the van route took us through Belize City and out into the heart of the country, revealing a developing nation with a shaky line dividing the wealthy from the poor: mansions stood next to rickety thatch roofed homes standing on stilts. what the country lacks in economic and political strength, it makes up for with a rich topographical landscape: miles of untouched fields, lush green mountains, a jungle teeming with wildlife. our drive twisted past towns that were once destroyed by hurricanes juxtaposed with the visions of children walking in their school uniforms, readying for class.

we turn off the main highway, up a bump-filled, dusty road towards the jungle. no seatbelts, so our driver told us to hold on…

Who knew tubing was a workout?

we arrived at our site at 9am and stripped down to prepare for a wet ride. TRAVELER’S NOTE: when you get there, there are vendors renting out water shoes for $3 BZ. don’t even hesitate—just RENT ‘em. you’ll be glad you did.

it was we three girls and a guy traveling on his own…and Keno, our wonderful guide. during the van ride, Keno seemed aloof; we soon learned that he was a shy, gentle man with a quiet demeanor. he was very tall and athletic and we would get to know him very well throughout the day as he was stuck with us. Keno (plus a funny little dog from the nearby lodge) led us on a hike through the jungle towards the system of caves. each of us carried an inner tube and followed him as he pointed out the jungle’s natural flora and fauna. some highlights, the “Give and Take”—a tree with spiky needles running along its sides. if one of these needles pricks you, you can relieve yourself from the pain by cutting off the bark from the same tree and rubbing it against the wound. we also saw a pineapple tree, sugar cane, and the mahogany tree—the national tree of belize.

as we approached the river, Keno walked us through some dry caves, using his light to point out families of bats just hanging out. we then headed down towards the river, where the water was crystal clear—the water closer to the cave entrance had an intense shade of blue, most likely fed from the cave’s limestone bedrock. we took a quick break to cool down from our hike and wade into the icy cold water before heading into the cave.

while frolicking, acting silly and observing the little fish swimming around our feet, Keno was getting nervous. uh-oh. what’s that sound? it’s not…oh god, it can’t be…it’s the Cruise Shippers. Damn cruise-shippers. a whole horde of them upon us—fifty at least!—before we could get all of our gear together to get a head start. oh well, too late.

TRAVERLER’S DISCLAIMER: yes. i admit it. i don’t like cruise shippers…i’m sure they’re not all obnoxious but when they arrive in crowds of fifty or more, its hard not to be obnoxious. cruises are not my speed—there’s a herd mentality to it and it seems like such a superficial way to travel--you barely experience each of the ports of call. i don’t mean to judge cruise shippers (okay, i do) ... i’m sure they’re perfectly nice people on land (heck, i’m even friends with some of them) but i prefer to immersing into a country vs. being stuck on a boat. to each his own. and yes, you’re allowed to slap me if you ever catch me on a cruise ship.

if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. we hopped onto our tubes, adjusted our headlamps (ow! that’s tight!) and began floating down the river, into the mouth of the cave. i thought this was going to be soooo easy and relaxing…you know, just floatin’ down a river. dude. i was SO WRONG. tubing, especially when the water levels were so low, required paddling, steering, and an innate sense of navigation that none of us had. we would run into the cave wall and get off track so much—i can’t tell you how many times poor Keno had to rescue either Carolyn or myself as the currents veered us off course, preventing us from any forward movement…

floating inside the cave was such a cool experience. we lit the way with the lights on our heads (which at some points were REALLY bright as we were sandwiched between cruise shippers) and saw a natural waterfall and numerous natural rock formations. one looked like a winged eagle; another like a mother cradling a child. at a certain point, we were told to turn off our lights as we went through a particular passage…gliding down the eerie darkness in homage to an ancient Mayan superstition relating to this section of the cave.

exiting the cave, we continued down the river out under the glaring sun. as it was dry season, the water levels were pretty low—sometimes flowing at mere inches. anytime we approached a more shallow area, Keno would warn “Butts up!”where you pushed your ass up and lay as flat as you can atop the tube to avoid hitting yourself against the many jutting rocks. of course, if you failed to do so, you just got yourself a nice butt massage. lucky for us, we were adept at the butt-lifting. in fact, i think we all kept yelling “Butts up!” for fun as we continued down the river. hee.

tubing down the river...

It’s a small world after all

we dried off, downed some fanta (yes, sing the song. you can’t help yourself!) and headed to Jaguar Paw Resort for lunch. most tubing/zip-lining excursions stop here for meals as it is positioned just minutes from the cave system and built the zip-line course on its property.

while dining on mayan chicken and rice ‘n beans (you never get tired of it…its so good!), a guy approached me and asked if i went to penn. well, yes. yes i did. and who the hell are you? ten seconds later…it hits me! he was friends with jen! omg! what are you doing here?!?! it turns our that David Austin was here on his HONEYMOON with his wife, smiling alongside him. How TOTALLY RANDOM. who knew the world could be so tiny? freaky tiny.

Do you believe you can fly?

what’s the most appropriate thing to do after a filling lunch? swinging through the jungle canopy? ding ding ding! right answer! oh yea, with full tummies in tow, Keno dropped us off with our two zipline guides: “you girls think you have wings!,” he said, smiling as he left for a well-deserved break from us. our guides were so sweet, chuckling at us as i asked them nicely to make sure they returned us in one piece. we knew they’d take care of us. one of them, George, had the cutest smile.

we all marched through another section of the jungle to put on our gear—a harness, hard hat, gloves and a mess of ropes and carabiners that looked mighty protective. that, or foolish, whichever. then we hiked up to the first in a series of eight platforms. our guides noted that the course was built to be a part of the jungle system—nothing was destroyed during course construction--platforms were built up and around trees, ziplines weaved through the natural canopy. it was yet another reminder of belizeans’ environmental conscience—each fact they shared underlined an innate desire to preserve their country’s natural beauty and resources. you cannot visit a place like this and not take notice how significant the environment is to their people.

the hike up to the first platform was quite arduous—man, was i out of breath--but buck up, the moment of truth awaits. george and his partner (i’m sorry partner, but i forgot your name!) gave some pretty simple instructions—hold this there, put that hand there…and DON’T PULL DOWN ON THE WIRE…unless, of course you want to stop, then pull for God’s sake!

1,2,3…and we’re off…trepidation slipped away (even from Mandy, who went from a fear of heights to a new adrenaline addiction!)…one by one…zipping down, screaming more in glee than fear. it was so A-W-E-S-O-M-E. what a rush to fly through the jungle! the lines spaced at steeper inclines enabled a faster ride—so fast, that they even built padding around the trees for the many who run head-on into it. George always laughed at us as we each nearly rammed head first into the pad—so THAT’S why we have hard hats. Heh.

one line was so long, that the platform on the other side doesn’t come into view until ¾ of the way there! of course, since i am an inept and lame-o embarrassment seeker…it was on that very line that i also got stuck. in my defense, many a hapless zipliner gets stuck on this run as its length depends very much on momentum…and many people lose momentum halfway down the line…thankfully, i ran out of speed about 10 feet from the platform. it wasn’t scary, just close enough for my cousin to catch me on camera in all my foolish glory…gotta love your family. if you do get stuck, you gotta find a way to the platform…and as cute and sweet as George is, he won’t come to your rescue. so i turned my body upside-down, back parallel to the ground WAAAY below, and used my arms to pull myself over. oh yea, building some nice arm muscles to boot. woohoo.

wheeeee! that's me, coming down the zipline!

the eight runs go by way too fast. we loved it and would have done it over and over. mandy and Carolyn, former skeptics have become new converts. as for me, I felt fully prepared for my turn on the Amazing Race (fingers crossed!). after the last zipline, you cap the experience off by rappelling down the last platform to the ground. can we do this again? please pretty please?

Conversations with Keno

we undid ourselves from the harnesses and returned to Keno, who rewarded us with chilled Belikens after a mighty tough day. vacation can be so tiring. it turns out we had a couple of hours to spare as we waited for others to finish their adventures, giving us a chance to get to know Keno better. he is a sweet sweet man. we sat at picnic tables drinking and chatting about his favorite way to eat journey cakes (warm and spread with butter, beans and cheese) and told us stories about his 5 month old baby girl (named Kena, close to his heart) and how his stepson calls him daddy and tells him everything (no secrets in that household!). he also educated us on the fragility of Belize’s political system—as we witnessed (citizens were rioting in Belize City while we were there)—and his contentment working as a tour operator (much better than the unease associated with government jobs). like many former bachelors, he told of his “glory days” as a belize basketball player, where his many trophies use to go to any pretty girl that crossed his path. those days are gone as all trophies must now go home to the wife at home! Keno still plays basketball, which has allowed him to tour the country and his only time spent out of belize—over the border in Guatemala.

The Quest for Caye Lime Pie

the long ride home was exhausting (why is getting there always so much better?) but it didn’t deter us from one of our fave pastimes—EATING. i had read about Casa Picassoonline prior to our trip. it’s a tapas and martini bar and said to have one of the best “Caye” Lime Pies on the island. i have an affinity for all things tart and citrusy, mandy loves tapas, and carolyn enjoys all things potato (a frequent tapas offering) so it seemed like a good way to celebrate the day.

boy is this place swank! Casa Picasso is located in a house on the edge of San Pedro and walking in is almost like walking into a NYC lounge. in fact, their killer martini menu also offered nyc-like prices: most averaged at $15 BZ. beyond the bar, there’s an open dining room with sleek, minimalist décor—one wall is filled with a movie screen which first projected some video footage of the owner’s diving experiences (and yes, he’s another conservationist!) which was then followed by the f*cked up movie that was Barbarella. can someone please explain to me what this film is about? the movie was on mute (trance/house music played over the speakers) but it seems to fixate on Jane Fonda being naked or dressed up in weird futuristic S&M gear…but I digress…

all the tapas were good…but the standouts include a papaya spread over toasted wedges w/cream cheese (this was truly yummy, I kept eating the spread!), sliced beef tenderloin (mmm…beef!) and salmon croquettes…which were more like grilled salmon cakes vs. the deep-fried balls of goodness i’m used to at other tapas restaurants. we each washed this down with a couple of martinis—mandy had a fresh watermelon one that tasted like summer. i first tried the key lime martini (with a layer of foam replicating meringue) and then had the lamanai—which was vodka with grapefruit and cranberry juice. Delish!

as the small plates cleared, I was readying for my caye lime pie. the waiter said there was one left (yippee!) but then he returned shaking his head (NOOOO!!!!) as the last piece was already taken. DAMNIT. thought I’d be safe opting for my second choice (a pineapple cobbler)…but alas! the waiter returned shaking his head again as I screamed: “You’re breaking my heart!!!” drama aside, they were kind enough to offer me the coffee crème brulee for free(which was actually very very rich and tasty) as mandy and carolyn successfully got their first choice—a cracked coconut (which is essentially coconut ice cream with chocolate filling a coconut shell) and a banana-ice cream-rum thing that was the warm blend of sweet perfection.

we closed the bill, looked at our watches and pondered our next step…hm…it’s already 11pm….and we’re tired…and…so…let’s just go back and sleep! alrighty then…sleep it is! after all…we want to be awake and ready for when Eleanor arrives for the second half of our trip…TO BE CONTINUED!!!

yes, this is my FIRST time

2005-04-27T20:17:00.000-04:00

so blogging became all the rage and of course i JUST NOTICED. i shoulda known i wasn't destined to be one of those uber cool "early adopter"-types who owns a trend before they become one. especially since i was still typing on a commodore 64 when i was fourteen. that was 1992. oh and i didn't realize that tapered jeans were ugly...until (gasp!) 1998. yep, i said tapered. so i own a 4G ipod and didn't start watching "Lost" until the seventh friggin episode...but a behind the curve chick like me deserves a space to vent too, right? RIGHT?!?!