"Okay away we go,
The only thing we got on
is the radio..."

For some reason I find these to be some of the sexiest lyrics on the airwaves at the moment.  Well, maybe even just the whole song.  It could be because I am so alone physically, that I am over sensitive to words, phrases, images... mostly, anything that makes me feel like you are near me which ironically, is everything.

Last week while rehearsing, one of my friends asked me, "How do you do it?  This whole long distance thing?  My boyfriend has been living in Dallas for the past four months and it's killing me!"  To tell you the truth, I really don't know how I can and do do this.  Every day is a brand new challenge, a fear that I must face.  The one thing that keeps me going is knowing that at the side of the world somebody loves me and is going through the same thing. I am not alone in my struggle; however, my daily companion is solitude.

I should get aboard a plane and go to him, right?  But it is not that easy.  Reconciling my two worlds is a challenge that I have dealt with in the past, and one always conquers the other.  Leaving means being with him, but leaving also means that I will leave my family, especially when they need me the most.  Financial burdens have unfortunately crippled my family, and I along with my mother are the soul providers of the household.  But if I leave, I could help them from afar and be with the one I love.  But there again another problem arises, I don't know if I want to go back to that particular collegiate life he follows.  I have lived that part of my life and I have closed that chapter.  I know he is much more than that, but it is his comfort zone, his home...  but not mine.  It is always hard to make the first move.  If I turn in, will he do the same?  He tries to convince me of this, but I have always believed that actions are stronger than words.  I am just unsure of the next course of action.
Should I cast the first stone and give up control or should I stand my ground and hope that he will come to me?

Forewarning

As I put on a freshly pair of jeans that had just come out of the dryer, I felt on the right side back pocket a piece of paper that had been left behind.  I unfolded what seemed to be the remnants of a movie stub, probably for Mark Wahlberg's "The Fighter", and discovered that the once pink cardstock was completely bleached out with the exception of the following phrase:

Tickets are valid only for the day of the showing.

With a simple wash that stain which I called a memory was out.  This wouldn't have stung as much as it did if it were not for the actions and words said in the last couple of days.  There has been repent, never-ending tears, unspoken words brought to life and broken hearts. But with all that said and done, I feel like everything is once again undone. 

I don't know if I am reading too much into this, but the lack of uncertainty scares me. 

I have been holding everything in 

and now I am about to explode...

It was my birthday yesterday, and the 3 most 

important men in my life were a complete 

disappointment...

....Why do I even bother anymore?

You had your youth
You had your chances

You were happy and carefree

Without a stress

Nor a cloudy day

The years have passed

And yet you want more

It is now my turn

It is now my right

To have those same sunny days

You once cherished

But you find so difficult to hand away

Quietly you have clawed yourself into my life

Making it difficult for someone like me
to stand up on my own

You know my weaknesses…

You know I’ll never say no

Always living in your shadow

And I am the one that grows old

I can’t see my future

I can’t taste success

I am numb because of your ways

Love, Part I

Although there have been some very positive changes in my life as of recent, there remains one constant for some time now.  I wouldn't mind it so much, if I knew there weren't any consequences to this behavior.  But I see how it is unsettling my father, killing my mother and distancing me away from my home.  It is not drugs, nor alcohol, nor legal problems.  To the contrary; it is Love.  No, it is not a mistype, nor am I delusional.  

Love- one might ponder, how can an emotion that is constantly being evoked and sought after by others be such a burden.

When Love becomes selfish and unkind, Love rejects the outsiders and prohibits the entrance within it.  Take the example of Romeo and Juliet.  Greatest Love story of all--- my Ass!   

William Shakespeare did wonderfully in capturing the Love between two naive, stubborn, horny teenagers who against the law marry each other and finally commit suicide because they are too impatient.  But what Shakespeare's work lacks is a glimpse into the surrounding Love.  Only until the end of the play does the reader come across this.  After Romeo's and Juliet's downfall, their deaths, there is a insurgence of Love from the Montagues and Capulets which is expressed through raw feelings of pain, despair and sadness.  I beg to pose the question, why then, why till the end?

Love like this is only damaging, egoistic, deathly.  Love accepts all kinds of Love.  It doesn't matter if it comes from a girlfriend, or a mother, or a sister, or a friend, or a stranger, or a loving pet.  The matter of fact is that it IS Love in its pure form and it shouldn't be declined.

"Love is patient, Love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preseves."

- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Stranger in this Space

I stared and looked into his eyes, and I failed to recognize the young man who I once found to be so strong and indestructible.  His heart was closed and his spirit had disappeared just like his ever impressive courage.

The icy breeze found his ways to be too frigid and returned crying to its North Pole home in search of comfort.  He was lured out my hands and taken hostage by a devil-driven trance.  And like a mime, his mouth is shut and his movements are strange, however, the silence is not what it is terrifying, it is his rage. 

No longer are there words of tenderness or teddy bear hugs.  Far away are the jokes and the silly faces he would perform to make me smile.  They're all lying amongst the ruins of what used to be part of my blood.  The sun sets upon your face as I say goodbye and walk away.

Breather

I can already see the trainwreck that might happen if I don't change my tracks immediately.  But like always,  I like to see how far I can push the envelope before it plunges down over the edge.  Time and time again this has happened, and like a horrible car accident I can't seem to remove my eyes from it... 

Got to hit those brakes before it's too late
Got to swerve the wheel back into place

If I want this year to be different, I must make an effort to avoid any type of self-inflicted drama.  I must remember: stress-free is the way to be. 

A Recap from 2004

Since I had the day off today, I found myself a bit bored and decided to do some organizing.  Yes, I am one of those compulsive organizers that gets a high from having her pens and pencils perfectly sharpened and all aligned at a perfect 90degree angle from largest to smallest.  And yes, we have established the fact that I am a big dork, but I am happy in my dorky ways. 
Moving along.  As I was cleaning a drawer full of old papers and memorabilia that I have collected throughout the years, I came across an old journal of mine from December 2004.  I am not a diary/journal keeping type of gal (that's why I have a blog, ha!), however, this journal was first intended for educational purposes and as the days turned into weeks, I've discovered that what transpired between my journal and I was more than just mere note taking, but a comradery.  My innerworkings, some laughter, and even some reminiscence of a ketchup stain can be found amongst its pages; definitely,  all leftover evidence from a wonderful trip that changed my life.
As I opened my journal for the first time in many, *sigh*, many years, I took a deep breath and found out that there is still a linger of that old-London town smell.  And as strange as it seems, I find it comforting and at the same time unbelievable, that something so insignificant can have such a significance in my life.  I was immediately taken aback to that 27th of December as I boarded the plane from McAllen headed to Houston with its final destination being Heathrow Airport.  For a whole month, I was a resident of London.  For four weeks, I called Harlingford Hotel my home and Russell Square my last stop.  The city of London was my playground and I was a very happy child running around its streets and playing amongst its theaters.  I remember every morning looking out my window and watching that infamous fog rising above the rooftops as the people commenced their morning routines.  Although there did seem to be a lack of monetary funds, I wouldn't trade that experience for anything in this world. 
The following lines are found on the first page of my journal.  They were inscribed into my companion five minutes after boarding the plane. As I read them, I couldn't believe how much time has passed by between my friend and I and I resolve to visit London one more time. 

To London I go
To London I see
Before I grow old
I want to flee

From my dream I awake
In my dream I want to stay
Watching myself in despair
The sun hits my face with its ray

Tonight I travel
Tonight I gain
My feet are as heavy as gravel
But it doesn't matter, so long as I am on that plane

To London I go
To London I see
To London to outlive all my dreams

My Teeny Bopper Side

So, I heard this song in the morning on my way to work.  Yes, it's cheesy.  And yes, I have horrible taste in music. This song and this girl who performs it are the epitome of what today's music industry hope to achieve. A nice pre-packaged girl who is  sweet-but punky and edgy enough-to question her angelic appearance and who can apparently rock out while still having perfectly styled hair.
However, lyrically, this song hits so many key points.  During the last couple of days, I have been feeling a bit down and have been a bit hard on myself.  It is nice to have the idea of a "HIM" in the back of my mind in order to spruce up my spirits. 

Stuck

Strapping up her boots once again
Doesn't know where she will head
Directions are scattered in her brain
But each path in front of her is like death

Standing up from her chair
She takes one step forward
But alas, she can't seem to catch any air

Streams of white noise raise within
Anything would be better at this moment
But how to let herself begin
When her feet are stuck in the cement

Strangers seem to pass her along
They grow, they laugh, they fall in love
They let her know, she doesn't belong

And the Song from Beginning...

Although I don't have an extensive background in music, except for my three years of wonderful Bass Clarinet playing (please, note the sarcasm) and the church choir, I have always felt a deep connection to it.  I love how each song conveys a strong emotion in my soul,  and although at times there might be a lack of lyrics, music still hits a certain chord within me.  Each song is tied to a different memory; some are happy, some are sad and some, at times, just invoke anger.  But what's important is the fact that even after so many years, each one still stirs up within me certain feelings.... and that is irreplaceable.

The Arrow and the Song

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

A New Year, A New Decade, A New Life

To say that I am happy that 2009 has finally ended would be an understatement.  Don't get me wrong, I love my fair share of challenges and obstacles, they are what makes us, well, us. However, the last year has chewed me up, spat me out and grinded me to the ground.  There was always some type of struggle and with each passing month it would increment until it climaxed unto something that spun out of my control....  and yet, I still can't seem to catch it.

*sigh*

But I have made my peace with it.  Too much pondering on one thing can cause over-analyzing and over-exhaustion, and in my case, over-stress.  No, this time I will take a step back from all the turmoil and just breathe.  If I spend too much time looking into the rear-view mirror of this thing called life, I will miss the whole view laid right before me.  And that ladies and gentlemen, is a bigger shame. 

No Resolutions will be made this January 1st.  As I see it now, everyday is a "New Year'".  Every day we are given the chance to write off all our wrongs and turn over a new leaf, or write another chapter in our lives.  I cannot promise that  each day there will be sunshine or that there will be joy, but I can make a small difference in my world by every morning wishing myself a "Happy New Year (Day)!"

I find myself at yet again another crossroads in my life (yes, I know, no surprise there).  And like always the process is escrutiating and mind-bogoling.    Because of my lack of direction and assertiveness I find myself at (wait for it) another Starbucks in Penn Station at 2:40am. 

more to develop...

Bluffing

Just out of pure curiosity, what woman pays actual attention to men when they are called to attention by less than original ways such as: "Ay, mami", "Mwuah, mwuah (a kissing sound)", "Hey, what's your name", "Que guapa", etc., etc., etc.?

Do these call of the wild really help men to get some or is it a desperate attempt to feeling a bit more like a man and less like a loser?  Yeah, I totally understand that logic.  Since one feels insecure to begin with, might as well objectify any female passerby in order to inspire a sense of authority and machismo. 

Today, I decided to conduct an experiment for my benefit only.  If the first party tried to call the second party's attention (a.k.a. me), then I would respond in a uncommon way and wait for their reaction. 


Example:

Man:  "Ay, Mamita, what I wouldn't do to you now?!?!?"


Me: "Okay, come on big boy let's go!"


I called him bluff. Man is surprised and does not know really how to answer to such a response.  He timidly turns around and walks away.  

Out of all the times this occurred today, only one man took me up on my offer.  However, because of moral, commitment and hygiene, I kindly declined his invitation.  






 

Real(ly,) News?

As I finished packing my bag this morning, and grabbed some Pop Tarts, which subsequently became a paste-like substance in my purse, I fought the urge to go back to bed.  In the meantime the background noise was infiltrated by the 'news stories' produced by Good Morning America.  

Apparently, it has become news worthy to report what a power-house female politician's choice of outfit will be.  This has escaladed far beyond the point of admiring such political/fashion icons such as Jackie O' and Nancy Reagan. 

It has become headline-news!

This morning's news reported a 30-second segment on the country's extreme stand on universal health care; however, an exposee on newly appointed Justice Sotomayor's choice of judicial robes lasted about 4 minutes.  Details went back to Justice Sandra Day O'Connor and her quest on finding the perfect robe in London and a more-than perfect collar from Paris's Champs Elysees.
 

Don't misunderstand me.  I love and appreciate the art that fashion is.  However, I have yet to discover why a story like "Ms. Obama vs. Ms. Bruni-Sarkozy"  is reported more frequently than other stories such as: our complications with North Korea, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, or  the Kyoto Treaty or the over-population and poverty.  No, we have become so desensitized and egocentric as a nation, that We The People prefer to Twitter, Facebook or Blog (Yes, I am guilty of that as well) our disappointments than step outside the gates of Washington like generations past, and exercise our rights  in freedom of speech and freedom to assembly.

We have become the Silent Cyber Generation who can text 50 words per minute to their B.F.F.s, but who cannot take 5 minutes to call their state representative and express their concern. 

Between 8th Ave and Limbo

With every passing day I find myself losing hope in the city that never sleeps. I have been scammed. The CITY that I once fantasized chewed me up and spat me out like used gum.

Hope is quickly running out and my bank account is close to running on empty. I have resorted to making a Starbucks between 8th and 7th my home office although I have only bought one "Dirty Chai" for $4.29. Sephora has become my new place for touch-ups before interviews (a girl can't go wrong with free make-up samples), and the steps in front of the Post Office have become my permanent hang-out. I guess the only positive aspect of this whole situation has been losing weight, since I don't eat lunch.

I haven't even found a job and all the hustle and bustle of the city, plus the one and a half hour commute each way is starting to deteriorate all the good vibes I had accumulated back in Europe. Everyone has somewhere to go, somewhere to be. Women in high-heels and their Chanel bags viciously push me aside while at the same time I run into standing tourists who stop in the middle of the sidewalk to appreciate the Chrysler Building and ask me about which is the correct way to Times Square. *sigh* To be a tourist and not have to worry about the stress back at the Starbucks office! Ignorance is bliss...

I sit at my corner office (literally in a corner that blocks the cash register's view) and scroll through pages of unattainable jobs, all at the same time trying to avoid the Manager who definitely knows who I am by this point. The cheapskate who doesn't order anything, ever, and who only sits at the same table on the same chair facing the same way and uses the free-access internet. I fear that next week there will be a picture of me with a striked circle on the window forbidding my entrance to the establishment.

But alas, I will pretend to drink my steaming Venti Caramel Macchiato and read through the posts on Craigslist in the hopes of finding something.

Till then, like Dori says, "Just keep swimming."

The 11th

In a day like this, after only a couple of years, (although at times it seems quite the opposite), I am reminded...
And all we can do to fight the Memories, the Anger and the Hatred, is not to keep our Love locked down and stay strong.

"Love Lock Down"
Kanye West

My New City...BREMEN!!!

In Just a Flash...

I am moving to BREMEN in less than 24 HOURS!!!!
And starting Grad-School on MONDAY!!!!

INSANE!!!!

more to come....

I am such in a good mood...
Let me show you with (maybe the corniest) video... It's a feel-good music...
(I know you are loving it Christianne!!!)

The United States of America of Europe

Funny, satirical, but could there be some truth to this dry humor or is just a 'flipped' patriotism to keep the US focused on one track?

http://www.comedycentral.com/colbertreport/videos.jhtml?videoId=177509