32 posts tagged “i see”
"What should I do about the wild and the tame? The wild heart that wants to be free, and the tame heart that wants to come home. I want to be held. I don't want you to come too close. I want you to scoop me up and bring me home at nights. I don't want to tell you where I am. I want to keep a place among the rocks where no one can find me. I want to be with you."
-Winterson, Lighthousekeeping
I'm not good at dating. I get it.
No, nothing happened this weekend to cause my saying this. It's just that all week I was obsessing over something to the point in which I think I've made not only my friends sick of me but I'm pretty sick of myself. Then again, maybe I was hormonal and such. That's very likely. But at any rate, I've beaten dead horses to a nice, goopy mush. No, I still don't have answers but i do know I'm not good at dating and I wonder why I do it at all.
What a weird thing this is... this whole dating thing. Just not as simple as in the movies. And yes, even the most complicated dating dynamic on screen is a 100 times more simple than doing it in real life. And there are tons of classes and books and pamphlets on the subject but still I don't thing anyone's fully "got it".
Maybe I'm not talking about 'dating'. Maybe I'm talking about 'wanting' or 'liking'. Maybe. Well whatever it is i think I'm talking about. I know I'm not good at it. And i don't have any hot water so I can't take a shower.
Do you ever feel like you're in pause. In some endless procrastination queue in which you'll do something later or that later such and such will happen but it never does? Meanwhile you won't get up off your ass and get started? What the hell is that about? That's just retarded. And that's totally me.
But anyway the quote above really spoke to me. Called to me and shook me to pay attention. I wrote a poem along these lines such a long time ago. Let me find it... Ah. Here it is:
Wild women become wilder at the implication – like the label fertilized the weak shoot into a straight-backed, chaos-canopied tree.
By then, wild women are deemed too far gone for the quiet life, the ease of notice, the decency.
But wild women know of a-thing and bind it by their hearts under the wire bra and gather it under their skirts, held by the supportive string by the sharp bone of the hip (where the stripper girls hold their singles). The thing, it butters their belly laughs and thrusts out their mirthful screams of mischievousness...
All it takes is one day, one moment, one hand on the small of the back – of the perfect pressure, mind you – one whispered entendre with a hint of promised innocence, one long deep sigh of patience to tested insolence, one warm tingle just a hair below the diaphragm, one moment of the sated, closing eyes rested in the crook of another’s neck. Just that one, and everything will change.
*snap!* Just like that.
Wild women know this.
Of course they do.
How else did they became wild to begin with?
And I guess that's the crux of the whole thing. wanting your freedom, your own peace of mind within the little life you know, you understand and you more or less have under control. Yet there is another call, outside of your own personal brand of wildness that doesn't mind the quiet. The wanting to be needed. The protection of another just to feel a little less alone, out on your own and 'out there'. I haven't quite reconciled these two people within me. (Ah, yes. Another instance of my dichotomous existence.) So of course, the better option is the safer option: go with what you know, know your limitations. Don't overextend yourself into something unknown, uncertain only to possibly lose yourself... again. Sure, I could rise to the occasion but doing so would leave me... vulnerable. And strength, or at least my version of it, is all I have left in this world. It's an odd world, isn't it? A very odd world with little support other than the very few who are willing to listen with no agenda and for no other reason other than they want to. And even that could change, which is the way of everything.
I'm in-between. Maturity and childhood. Being grownup and being emotionally stunted. Being free and being tied down with my responsibilities. By my limitations and by my wants.
But that's the way of women who ventured out into the wild to be abandoned there. Who had to learn from scratch and make do. Who flirts with civilization and the occasional episodes of domesticity. You dance between what you want and what is wanted from you. And the only way to navigate is with a straight back, a myopic eye, and a belly heavy with acid. Heart optional.
But I'm just rambling, what do i know?
The Year: 1982
The young girl is ripped from her mother's arms at the trainyard by the Nazi, being taken to god knows where to have god knows what inflicted upon her. The mother is sobbbing in shame and regret. The girl's screams of Mommy! Mommy! echoing in the crowded station, growing more and more desperate as she is wrenched farther and farther away from her family, reaching out in vain for her mother...
The audience, sobbing in return. They mutter to themselves, Not fair. So not right. We are haunted by the look of madness in the mother's eye, the terror in the child's face and her torturous screams. Not fair. Mommy... mommy.
The Year: 2007
Already sobbing in court wearing something reminiscent of the Fall line of Mugatu's Derelicte, Paris Hilton hears her fate, Take your dumb, stupid, ignorant, spoiled ass back to jail and this time you're doing the entire 45 days. Her mother's reacts in shock and holds her face. Her daughter turns around and screams as the female baliff has to physically pull her to the door, It's not right! MOMMY! MOMMY! Her mother reaches helplessly back to her now screeching daughter. And she had indeed done everything in her power to keep her precious Paris out of jail. Used her money, her influence, the best lawyers she could find, yes, even gave the LA Sheriff himself a blowjob just to try to circumvent the system that her daughter willfully tried to ignore for about a year now. She feels so helpless. There must be something she could do. Something. Hell... Someone.
The audience inside the courtroom, outside in the halls, on the streets, watching from home and on the internets everywhere pump their fists in victory. Those hapless secretaries tied to their desks secretly following the details of the day's batshittery (pressing refresh refresh refresh going from TMZ to CNN to ONTD over and over and over) silently mouth a jubiliant YES and maybe a bold WOO HOO. People are dusting off the old cabbage patch move swinging their arms around like a stirring cauldron. They IM their friends. They text whomever. They're exhausted with all the drama and they feel slightly less disenfranchised just because they weren't born into money or think they're above the law.
Also, they all feel that Paris Hilton is indeed a Stupid Spoiled Whore and just needs to shut the fuck up and do her time and her being a bitch about this and not taking responsibility is her jumping the shark and she totally should have just done what she needed to do because then people would have totally respected that shit because look at what happened with Martha Stewart who just did her thing at the clink and came out more popular than ever so Paris totally just screwed herself by being a jackass.
But otherwise I have no strong feelings on the matter.
But first, a quote:
Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It's okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise.
- No One Belongs Here More Than You, by Miranda July (highly recommended website, by the way)
I foresaw May as being a particularly interesting month. And at the midpoint, it has not failed me. Between a couple of concerts, a plethora of birthday celebrations (six, people, SIX in one weekend!), two trips out of state, going to a specifically-gay bar (as opposed to just a regular NY bar which are more than half-gay anyway), wandering unknowingly into a lesbian-heavy hotel, going to the computer doctor, taking myself to the emergency room, writing an insane email on no sleep to my boss basically drawing a line in the sand which resulted in a never-before-done private lunch with him while high on Benedryl, and travelling 1,600 miles in ridiculously oversized pants, I would say the last few weeks have been lively; at least somewhat.
And now, with a couple of "regular" days under my belt, I'm terribly, terribly bored.
Fear, my friends. Fear my idle hands and my resultant idle mind.
Monday, after returning from Miami and then the next day's Mother's Day, I emailed a friend and told him I was back from my whirlwind couple of weeks and everything was "back to normal". He chuckled at me at my concept of "normal". And then I thought about that. Okay, I had to chuckle, too.
Consider, if you will, like floodmarkers along a riverside at a bridge or whatnot. There are various watermarks that show where the water level usually reaches. Up too high and you have a flood. Too low and it's a drought. Then there are levels somewhere in-between. That's where the river flows on a normal basis. A "normal" highwater mark.
Granted, my highwater mark is higher than most.
So lately the highwater mark has been reached and the waters playfully choppy. And I'm evidently all about that since I enjoyed the river rafting and all (okay, let's get off metaphors, why don't we?). And so now I'm "back" and it's somewhat "normal" I'm wondering what's next. I'm like a junkie now. The weather's been beautiful, I've gotten some color. I've met some cool people and seen some cool things. I've told some stories and have now new stories to tell. Yet come Monday, here I am at my desk and I want to know when's the next "thing"?
Monday, I was just sorting through my photos, relishing in caught up sleep. Tuesday I was zooming off of over the counter antihistimines while tap dancing at work. Wednesday I'm rolling my eyes again, setting up my Saturday. Bored as all get out, thinking I need to get out more. This is Wednesday I'm talking about. I debate about taking classes, finding someone to go to a bar with, Hell- going on blind dates not to date but just to mix it up. And now it's Thursday, and I've figured it out. I'm a lunatic.
See, the thing with having the weather change on you, the days getting longer, your skin (and especially your gams) finally kissing air, being able to eat and drink outside and all that other stuff that happens when the cold and dark of winter starts to roll away is that you get antsy. Restless. You want to do more, condense more into your days, your nights. Time for wickedness. Time for adventure. And then I went and sated some of that hunger with a couple of trips and long days out with my friends. I want more. I'm like a voracious vampire with a bitchin tan. (there I go with friggin metaphors again. dammit)
Life is too short, my friends. To friggin short for idle bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I bullshit with the best of them, the good-time bullshit- especially at a picnic, a barbecue, hanging with some good people with a beer in my hand-all about it. I mean the idle bullshit that stems from foolishness of a bothersome nature. The trying to pin down the intangibilities of ethereal concepts and people. Who is mad at whom? What did such and such mean by that? Do you want to kiss me or not? Y'know, time to speak plain. Move forward and not back. Go hard or go home. Always wear clean underwear. Trite stuff like that. (I actually am rather fond of sports metaphors and especially football movies. I should have been born a boy. I really would have been a hot boy)
A good friend just told me that she learned a school chum of hers just died. She was 33. I gasped and then stated while still shocked "Life is too damned short for bullshit."
"That's for damned sure," she uttered.
That's for damned sure.
I had said last year that I would make an effort to just say "Yes" to things because, hell, why not? And staying to true to that I had many adventures involving shooting rifles, traveling to Long Island to shoot paintballs, going to the Caribbean, dope stuff like that. Well, it's a new year and a new season and I'm kicking it up a notch. The winter was a long one, and if it weren't for a few birthdays a couple of weeks ago, I still wouldn't have seen half of you. So it's time to travel. Go out. Do something. I have a lot of pent up energies here. Whoot I say. Spring. Totally.
So as for you all, here's what you do. Do it for me. Yes, ONLY for me and believe you me you will profit from such a venture. You know me, I will make sure you do. I'm a giver. A lover, not a fighter. I am losing my train of thought here.. Oh yes! I want brunches with you people. After-work drinks. I want rooftop parties. Barbecues. House parties. Picnics in the parks that you choose. I'm talking about catching the Philharmonic again in Central Park under the stars. I'm talking about bogarting somebody's pool but someone will have to drive cause Lord knows I can't. I'm talking about one of you helping me get my driver's license this year. I'm talking about movie nights. Museum days. Hell, I have a museum membership... what are we waiting for, peoples?!
Fear my (relative) idleness! As many of you know, when left to my own devices I get into trouble. In fact, I always get into trouble. Granted, you all gain grand entertainment from my "okay, so last night when I-" stories. Whatever, yo. Until I figure out what next outside-of-NY locale I will visit, I'm totally using this place up. And I'm using all of you too for the good times. Okay, so not only am I a giver but I'm also a user. Sue me.
Okay, I think the coffee, nicotine lozenge and ham sandwich has kicked in. I'm zooming. So while you figure out what to do with me, please sample today's IM Hall of Fame submission between me and Carinda, reminiscing about our short life in Miami.
A little color here, though. Carinda and I arrived in Miami, unwittingly, during a Lesbian Film Festival. While asking for directions, someone mentioned it like "Yeah, well, you guys know what you're (you plural) doing... the party over ___ for the festival, right?" And it still didn't dawn on us. Then later we were walking to the beach and noticed the back of the hotel next to ours were having a bitching party. Without hestiation we walked right in through the gates. As we kept going further and further in, we indivdually started to wonder to ourselves where all the guys were. I kept looking around sizing up everything then turned to Carinda, who was still wondering about the guy situation, and said to her, "There sure are a lot of lesbians here." Embarassed laughter ensued. Needless to say, we would joke about "The Festival Girls". Then later, when walking down Ocean, guys would try to stop us to buy their CD or something. When we wouldn't slow, a couple of them, pissed off, would scream out LESBIA. Again, hilarious because it was like his logic was, we wouldn't listen to his self-burned indie cd because we were two girls walking around together and therefore lesbian. So as we continued and we passed those guys again I asked him whether it was a cd of lesbian music because we would only listen to lesbian-like music. Fight ridiculous with ridiculous. So that's where the following "festival girls" conversation stems from. And Carinda's going to kill me for posting this. hehehehes.
EDIT: SCORE! Birthday party and possible "show" tomorrow. Man, internets, you work fast!
Who's next?
All in the frontmost, fully-accessible aisle, right-by-the-door, for your convenience at the local Walgreens...
Extra-large condoms, Giant Tank of Aspirin, 5-hour Energy something, Single-Use Cameras, and I guess mixed nuts for quick sustenance. This is like a MySpace photo just waiting to happen. All i needed was sunglasses and suntan lotion.
Sweet Baby Jeebus.
Addendum: As pointed out to me, everything spelled correctly except for the name of the store. Ah, well done. Very well done.
If I were to become a costume-clad superhero, or at least get the opportunity to write my own title, my superhero supername would be Bodega Cat.
No one fucks with Bodega Cat.
I have to admit, I honestly was not really into the Christmas Spirit this year. Even after all the festivities, the excitement I usually have brimming below the surface really didn't hit me. A couple of times, maybe, when it came to gifting certain people. But that's it.
Thanks to Jon, who gifted me the Verve: Unmixed Vol. 3, and also my discovery of Aqualung, the two songs in constant rotation all weekend was Nina Simone's "Lilac Wine" and the aforementioned Aqualung's "Easier to Lie". Not exactly Christmas music, I know. Combined, they're an emotional orgy of unrequited heartfelt feelings, brutally honest admissions of deception to preserve one's feelings, and acknowledgements of self-delusionment as a mechanism to cope with loss. Again, not actually in-the-spirit music.
It's been a weird year for the old Jo. Actually, it feels like it flew by. My usual antsiness has jelled into a type of ennui that's not only tangible, but downright an impediment to my enjoyment of many things that have sated me in the past. I think hard and fast resolutions are in order, only to be used as motivations to shake something up.
Certain ideas have been popping up in my head that I pretty much know will never happen. Still, a sister can wonder, can't she?
I've been thinking I need to move. And I mean MOVE. Out of the city. Out of state. To another country would be great but seeing how out of NYC would be a huge enough thing, let's not be crazy. Granted, NYC and I are lovers whose affections for each other will never die. But like Eddie Murphy says, you can't have one cracker your entire life. You have to try other crackers in order to get the full spectrum of cracker-dom. Yes, yes. NYC is the RITZ cracker of all crackers. But how are you going to appreciate the salty, buttery goodness of a Ritz without sampling all the other- well, you get where I'm going with this. This whole move thing will probably never happen. I have property with my name on it. A mother and a son to take care of... Again, a sister can dream.
I want to go back to school. To a university. I want to study Anthropology. I was kicking around getting an MFA in Creative Writing, but I think my love for cultures, history and specifically Religious anthropology is calling to me more. But this requires time. Not only chronological time, but mental reserves which I don't seem to have in general. Okay, and money, too. Dammit.
I want to find a new line of work. I can't keep staying in one place for years and years with no personal satisfaction in sight. And now I'm a paycheck whore. And like all whores, the self-loathing is ridiculous. Of course, I could compartmentalize. Go to work, earn my paycheck and then leave right at the bell and do whatever the hell I want to do. Sure, I could do that. But that would be the less angsty route. Let's not kid ourselves. :)
I want to do more activities. A dance class. Relearn classical guitar. Stuff like that. This is not impossible. I just need to get off my ass.
In general, I just need to get out more, and ultimately meet more people so I can date again. I want to date but I hate all the bullshit - on both sides. I've been on a couple of good ones this past year, but because I felt nothing for the guys, it just all felt disingenuous so it all loses its appeal fairly quickly. I dunno. Still... y'know. A sister has needs.
So that's me from the top of my head. Me just off-the-cuff typing out things that would be neat, but would probably not happen in the short term. It's no crime just to imagine.
As an aside, a couple of times I've noticed a good pattern. When I used to be on the Cross Country team in HS, I would constantly use visualization in order to motivate myself for each race. I was recruited to be a sprinter on the Track Team, but I'm not a team player and I enjoyed the constant self-challenging aspect of X-Country. I learned that you had to visualize the course, see yourself making the finish line. Constantly reinforcing your image of you finishing and finishing strong to the point that during the race, no matter how beat you feel, that image you carry with yourself will motivate you to making that image a reality. A constant self- conversation that would ultimately answer you.
I've noticed that I've taken this technique and applied it to my life throughout the years. When I was younger, and under a lot of stress and pressure as a young mother with no other support, I would try to visualize myself as a fully indepenent woman, with her own apartment, a good source of income, unburdened with all the drama that accompanied me during that insane time. One day I found my old journals and then realized not only how so much had changed, but how many of those things did become reality.
I at one time dreamed of being in a passionate, loving relationship. Perhaps moving to the next level in which we were living together. I was part of a long-term, cohesive unit. And that happened and I don't regret it. Soon afterwards, when that unit led to me losing my sense of self, I dreamed of being by myself, surrounded by friends. Entertaining others and having a social circle I would adore. I do have that now. It's amazing how things turn out without even realizing it at the time.
So now it's just a question of looking ahead to 2007. How do I visualize myself and my life for this new year? I love my friends. I love my independence. FInancially I'm good. My family is doing its thing. I want to experience more things. I've been doing so lately with insane fervor. Even though I'm still very guarded, I've been putting myself out there, so to speak. Whether or not they pan out, I'm quite confident I could handle the consequences. I can't be afraid anymore. I want to complete one big thing. What that thing is, I dunno. But I want to accomplish something.
I guess, in short, my immersing myself in other people's lyrical representations of longing and regrets is my way of using a mirror, to show myself what it is that I don't want. Who wants to just lament and wallow in "wish I did's" and "if only I's"?
Sure, it's easier to lie to oneself that everything can continue to be as they are. But how easy is it in the longterm, once you look back and it was all one big, unsatisfying blur?
There’s a sense of caginess within me. A shaking box of pent up sexual frustration and passion quaking in its need for the container to be opened and have everything pour out in a furious flood.
The rub is that physical needs are easy to satisfy, if you didn’t have that pesky problem of wanting to wake up in the morning without hating oneself. I can’t fake affection. I can’t manufacture passion. I need both things in order to be fully sated.
So I remain hungry, starving, compelled to be repressively voracious. God damn this is so hard.
For the past month now, Carinda has intermittently been slipping in between conversations a persistant "So what do you want for Christmas?" I swear to gosh, no idea.
I would instantly reply, "World Peace" or something cliche like that. Then there will be the couple of minutes of me doing a mental inventory. What do I want? What do I need? And what the hell would I want people to give me if in a 'Perfect Xmas' scenario?
Again, no clue.
So then you do the usual Amazon Wish List distribution. I guess to get give fools an idea of the kitsch they can throw at you. Then you go through the list and there's just a bunch of crap that you spontaneously clicked a button over. I mean, yeah it would be cool to get the Old School Sesame Street DVD, a book that will help me refresh and relearn Mandarin and an ultra-suede duvet set. But am I dying to get it for Christmas? Not really.
And I guess Christmas is really for the babies.
Here at the office, every year it's a funny little dance around the whole gifting thing. We're a small firm of 4 people. Usually, the gifting to each other is rather generic and almost like you're just giving the throw away stuff you find in your house that you have no use for. And this is rather strange, all this impersonality. Especially since we spend an average of 10 hours a day with each other for five days a week fifty-two times a year in rather close quarters. I like to give a little more effort with my gifts to them. Granted, mostly books and occasionally a picture frame, but otherwise, its along the lines of what I know about them. And I told the guys today, "listen, I don't really care if you have any gifts for me, I have stuff for you so take them." Relieving the pressure while I enjoy the gifting to others just to see in their faces if I was even a little bit close to their bypassing politeness and actually liking the gift.
Which leads me to then get to the gist of what I want for Christmas. And what i want is to have someone not feel pressured or obligated to get me anything; I want them to feel like it. Like when you're idly perusing a silly store with gag stuff in there like an Urban Outfitters or, I dunno, a Ricky's and you see something completely hilarious or maybe even ironic and to you it screams out my name. Hell, yea. Joanna would *totally* crack the hell up over this. Or a Oh, snap. She and I were *just* talking about this the other day. Now, any other time in the year, it would be strange or at least just a bit awkward to just open your mailbox and see a gift from a friend just for no reason. Well, you have a reason now. It's friggin Christmas. Give the babies the toys and their parents the gift certificates so they can spend and such. Once you "get all grown" and such, what you really want is your bills paid, maybe an item that's a bit outside of their regular budget, or something rather indulgent.
But what I want is nothing too fancy, nothing to high post.
I want anything that will make me laugh or at least smile. Be it a story, a silly photograph or maybe a crazy and ironic toy, I dunno. Unless you're actually sending over checks of money and maybe some no-string-attached penis, you really don't have to gift me much anyways. I love the cards I get. The tiny rectangles of written words from my friends from either down the block or from across the world. The few people who do get gifts this year got them because I tripped over something that made me think of them. What I want is another week down in Nevis. The freedom of time and the endless stores of energy to see more of the world and experience additional ridiculousless. I want to be able to just roam the Earth less like Kane and more like Forrest Gump. I want to buy a house with a backyard for my mother to garden and enough money to take Ziggy on frequent trips to other continents just so he could see how much bigger the world is than New York City. But these are things I can only get for myself. So outside of that, let's just smile together.
I want to sit down to a dinner of laughing and storytelling people at least twice a week. I want new sofa slipcovers and maybe a new pots and pan set - but that's something I would have to get for myself. I've heard that xmas is supposed to be all magical and such. Magic is a lot more quiet and intimate than anything battery powered or that comes with a receipt.
So what I want for Christmas is to enjoy more of the good times by spending the good times with others. Wealth is subjective and my wallet's been type tight lately. But nothing makes me feel more human, more whole and more alive than anything that can be wrapped up in golden paper. Yes, I know I'm rambling. For Christmas I want to ramble, dammit. And by "spending time with others" I suppose more in terms of the tiny snapshots in time we inhabit in people's thoughts. Like an email or an IM. The occasional postcards from overseas I get. The invite to dinner, not because you feel you have to, but because you just want to hang.
So that's what I want for Christmas. And in that vein, in general, every day can be Christmas Day.
1. What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
Went on a weeklong vacation with Ziggy alone. Floated in the Caribbean Sea. Snorkeled. SCUBA'ed. Tried to climb a mountain. Chased a cow. Rode a horse.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't recall whether i made any resolutions this last time around. But at least I've started on a longterm one which was to quit smoking. So far so good. I also have started a "101 things in 1,001 days" list.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Almost. :( A good friend had a still birth.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Tita Cynthia. My best friend's father died as well.
5. What countries did you visit?
St. Kitts Nevis.
6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
Come to think of it, I don't think I've lacked in much this past year. Huh. Interesting. I guess what I would like is a weekend away somewhere with a good friend.
7. What date from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I have no clue. May get back to this one.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I would say Thanksgiving, but I totally didn't do that all myself so that doesn't count. Maybe having more parties at my house?
9. What was your biggest failure?
Helping Ziggy become the best he could be.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Not really other than the usual sniffles and such.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
iPod? My new Mac? I also bought aTV which is cool but the sound is shite and I need computer speakers for it.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Carinda. For being a wonderful, attentive mother. Something I envy in her.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Ziggy. Then again he's 13 which makes me step up my game more. SO then I guess my answer would be me.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Bills. Credit cards.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Seeing an out-of-town friend.
16. What song will always remind you of 2006?
Stay with Me by Nee-Yo. It just was perpetually on play since it's just a happy song.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
Happier or sadder? Looking back, sadder.
Older or wiser? Older
Thinner or fatter? Flabbier
Richer or poorer? Richer grosswise. Poorer netwise.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Working out. Household organization.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Sleeping. Being lazy. Watching TV.
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
With my family.
21. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?
Private semi-formal affair at my house.
22. Did you fall in love in 2006?
I don't think so.
23. How many one-night stands?
none.
24. What was your favorite TV program?
Countdown with Keith Olbermann
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Well, I try not to hate, but I have severely disregarded a couple of people.
26. What was the best book you read?
Seven Types of Ambiguity by elliott perlman
27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Manu Chao
28. What did you want and get?
A raise.
29. What did you want and not get?
A really good lay. (hey, i'm being honest)
30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Lucky Number Slevin
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
31. I did the three day birthday trifecta involving a bar crawl, a party at my house and brunch. kudos to those few who lastest all three days. :)
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Please reference #29.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
What's clean?
34. What kept you sane?
Friends.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Angelina Jolie/Anderson Cooper tossup.
36. What political issue stirred you the most?
EVERYTHING.
37. Who did you miss?
My father. I miss him all the time.
38. Who was the best new person you met?
Wow. There were tons. Huh. Darrell. Safiya. Um, okay, I'm trying to remember them all because everything's a blur right now.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
Patience and self-determination is key in everything. (even in elections)
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"Be kind to me, or treat me mean/I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine"
It's really quite remarkable when it hits me once in a while that outside of my workplace, my world tends to be very female-dominated. That fact has no bearing on this post per se. Just something that came to mind as I pressed "compose". Now let's begin.
I'm a mother. My mother's birthday was last Wednesday. Carinda's a mother. Her mother's birthday was last night, which I was unable to attend. Why? Parent/teacher night which soon became "the boy sits on a chair while his mother his various female teachers the female principal and his female advisory surround him asking ad infitnum what happened with his Math". Again... maybe two male teachers out of his roster of eight - with the second male teacher being for gym. Then there are mostly mothers and not fathers attending these things. I dunno, a very female-driven culture I live in though it's the men who try to dictate the rules and play with all of the toys.
I wonder if I'm more man than woman though sometimes... but again, this is not the reason for this post.
I apologize to Cassandra for not attending her birthday dinner last night. Heck, I missed my mom's surprise party in Queens put together by her friends last night. And happiest of birthdays to my mom who I treated to a large steak dinner at Spark's (sans any mobster hits) and half a bottle of red wine.
And now, to the obligatory pics:
