happy new year!

midnight on january 1st doesn't mean all that much to me. it never has. looking back, it always seems a little silly -- partly because i stare at photos from new years' parties and question the dating choices i made that particular year. that particular "plus 1" i brought to the party -- but mostly because we celebrate a new year at the wrong time. our lives simply aren't organized that way. never have been. the question is, will they ever be?

growing up, our new year began at the end of the summer. the fall was the harbinger of all things new. new teachers, new clothes, new must-see TV. in contrast, nothing new ever happened in january. we returned to the same classrooms, wore the same clothes we'd been wearing all winter (plus a few new sweaters and probably some underwear we found beneath the christmas tree or chanukah bush).

i don't know about you, but that cycle has never ended for me. maybe it's because i never left school. i attempted to remain the perpetual student forever, and for many years i succeeded. every fall i've gone back to school. every september, i've welcomed a new year in my life. new places, new acquaintances.

saying good-bye to summer remains my new year's eve. and it's time to do it again. ...we watch the season pull up its own stakes... as i write this, dashboard's "stolen" plays on repeat. it's a classic. promise me you'll listen to it at least once during the next few days, ok? promise. ...catch the last weekend of the last week... labor day sure did come fast this year.

for me, this new year is huge. at twenty-six, i've finally finished grad school and will, the day after labor day, enter the job market. i just swallowed a lump in my throat. i. am.excited. i've enjoyed my last summer vacation. now i'm joining the rest of you in the working world. ...another sun-soaked season fades away...


i can't help but wonder, will i soon begin feeling the new year's arrival in january? now that summer will no longer hold such promise and potential, will i join the rest of you in meaningful midnight toasts at the end of december?

or are you working stiffs still like your 12-year-old selves, turning a page this weekend and welcoming the new year along with the fall of the first leaves in the park? did you buy some back-to-school, fall fashions to wear back to work after labor day? did you make a resolution to pack your lunch every day this year?


here's wishing you a happy new year! enjoy your last weekend of summer. ...one good stretch before our hibernation... it'll be 2009 before we know it.

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i left my patience at 16th and walnut.

i'm a streetwalker. it's what i do. it's part of me. it's not just how i get around. this isn't about commuting. it's about being good at something. i'm good on the street.

if streetwalking were a profession, i'd be CEO. or at least partner. Streetwalking, LLC.
because i approach walking down the street like i'm running a gauntlet.
pedestrians are unwitting hurdles i have to jump, slalom flags i have to avoid. no one is walking fast enough. ever. everyone is in the way. probably including you.

a wheelchair up ahead? i have to cross the street. i'm not dealing with that. not today.
hungry men crowded around a lunch cart? no thank you, i'll walk around. you won't slow me down. you think you're getting a cheesesteak, but some of us are trying to walk on this flat, cement surface provided for that very purpose. not for lunch. see any tables here? it's not a cafe.
otherwise reasonable women, walking in a group, turn into bumbling idiots, walking side-by-side, afraid to break rank. you want me to step to the curb and wait for you to pass? i'll walk right through you bitches. i'm 'bout to throw an elbow.
the elderly? are you kidding me? stay to the right. STAY TO THE RIGHT!
don't get me started on black teenagers. they think they own the entire street. hang up your celly and watch where you're walking!

none of you will slow me down. i'll walk in traffic if i have to.
can't you see i'm in a hurry? a huge hurry. i've never been tardy for anything, ever. you know why? because i walk like i'm already late.

if you don't know how to walk down the street like a rational adult, you need to learn. i'll teach you myself. free lessons for the good of society.
you still can't do it? can't keep up the pace? stop in the middle of a crowded sidewalk to bang out a message on your blackberry? you fail. you're no longer allowed to walk. buy a segue.



UPDATE: i'm not alone. blogger rob up in the big apple felt a similar urge to comment, new york style. check it out. and thanks for the link, patrick.
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nobody says...

Let sorrowful longing dwell in your heart.
Never give up, never lose hope.
Allah says, "The broken ones are my beloved."
Crush your heart. Be broken.

-Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir, a/k/a Nobody, Son of Nobody



lovely.

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contentment

i might have been a singer who sailed around the world,
a gambler who wins millions and spent it all on girls


i might have been a poet who walked upon the moon,
a scientist who would tell the world i discovered something new


i might have loved a king and been the one to enter war,
a criminal who drinks champagne and never could be caught


but among your books,
among your clothes,
among the noise and fuss
i've let it go


i can stop and catch my breath
and look no further for happiness


and i will not turn again
cause my heart has found its home




new dido, and i love it. i can't decide if she intends it to be sad or enlightened.
but it speaks to a part of me that is very content -- a part that feels loved -- a part of me that, rather than wanting something new, seeks happiness in more of the same.

'ya know?

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everyone's a critic

in this politicsoaked time, we're exposed to countless voices --- pundits, politicians, and bloggers galore --- explaining to us what's important, what to care about, and most of all, why our world is in such a dire state.

now add to the list of voices rihanna, brit, ne-yo, and more.

even the thoughtless, potentially retarded yet much-beloved celebrities of our culture can convey important political messages... if "mashed up" properly.




the masher, DJ Earworm, includes a message with his hot remix of the summer's biggest hits:

…Lately in pop music there’s been this growing undercurrent of dysfunction and desperation.


Leona Lewis talks about love in terms of flesh wounds, Akon sings of girls being dangerous, Danity Kane complains of being damaged, Ne-Yo is unable to control himself, Rihanna is going crazy.


Meanwhile a burning hunger for more cries out: The Pussycat Dolls, Britney, and Lupe Fiasco all desire fame, attention, recognition, and they encourage the listener to feel the same way. All this, mixed in with Madonna’s pre-apocalyptic pop song plus Estelle and Kanye’s transatlantic lovefest, starts to paint a picture of where our culture is today, overwhelmed by our own raging appetites, even as we run out of what we need.


And you can dance to it!



i can't help but wonder, is the political narrative extending too far? when the voices we rely on for mindless entertainment and distracting fun start lecturing us, where are we to turn?

not to worry. you'll always have The Hills. or will you?

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meant to post this in 2001

Because he created you in his image. At least that's what I was always taught. And since God is love and God doesn't make mistakes, then you must be exactly the way he wants you to be. And that goes for every person, every planet, every mountain, every grain of sand, every song, every tear... and every faggot.


qaf.season1.obv.

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hollerin' at my boo

me: it's big ballin' baby when i'm courting you.
i'm talking spy bags and fly pads and rooms at the bloomberg,
and rumors you on the verge of a new merge,
'cause that rock on ya finger is like a tumor.
you can't fit ya hand in ya new purse.

A: don't... don't sing. stop.
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twain says...

Any so-called material thing that you want is merely a symbol: you want it not for itself, but because it will content your spirit for the moment.


my luggage arrived this afternoon, after three days. i felt such relief. all my anger dissipated in an instant. the desire to write another strongly worded letter exited my being, and i felt contentment.

but as i (finally) unpacked my luggage, my STUFF, i couldn't help but ask myself: what, in the heaping piles i was attempting to organize, was so important? what did i miss so dearly that it upset me for days?

what i was waiting for, in the end, was a huge pile of laundry, mainly.

sure, there were other things, but nothing that important. some toiletries? (i could've bought more). my favorite flip flops? (they're old and tattered anyway). my corkscrew? (well, that, actually, is really important to me, so i had reason to be upset about it). but what else? a book i've already read? a couple of suits?

it's just STUFF.


i am such a silly little sinner. i wanted it because i couldn't have it, regardless of whether i needed it.

and now i'm left with a huge pile of laundry and no excuse for not doing it. hmph.

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just a few faves

waking up at 6 a.m., the ship's shuddering is our only alarm clock.
out the window there's land. where are we today?
the itinerary reads "belize," our only clue.

hiking through a biological reserve in honduras.
it was actually really scary and unstable.
D had to hold my hand.

a catamaran to the reef. beautiful, clear water and brilliant sea life below.
i should've been looking down, but i can't help but look up.

evidence of a 5,000 year old civilization in mexico.
the mayans knew the three most important tenets of real estate development: location, location, location.

and suddenly we wake up and we're back in miami.
where did the week go?

(all from the camera that wasn't lost. obviously.)

5 lbs

for those of you who might be wondering, or might have even placed bets on how much i'd gain. a-holes.


and it was lovely. 7 nights of drinking. 7 days of caribbean frolicking.

but i'm glad to be home.

note: though D and i made it safely back, unfortunately neither my luggage nor her new digi-camera did the same. at least not yet. since we used her camera almost exclusively for photos, i guess we'll just have to tell you about our trip. whenever you'd like to hear. as for my luggage, an all-out boycott of American Airlines is tentatively scheduled, pending the prompt return of my suitcase (all 72 pounds of it!)


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something nice for a change

One day I'll find relief
I'll be arrived
And I'll be friend to my friends who know how to be friends
One day I'll be at peace
I'll be enlightened and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt
One day I will be healed
I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

One day my mind will retreat
And I'll know God
And I'll be constantly one with her night dusk and day
One day I'll be secure
Like the women I see on their thirtieth anniversaries

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

Ever unfolding
Ever expanding
Ever adventurous
And torturous
And never done

One day I will speak freely
I'll be less afraid
And measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art
One day I will be faith-filled
I'll be trusting and spacious authentic and grounded and home

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

wow. alanis actually wrote a great song that's not a bitter tirade against an ex!
i like.
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