Some wise words to make your life as simple as a child's! Click away!
6O WAYS TO MAKE LIFE SIMPLE AGAIN!!!!
annd.... 10 WAYS TO MAKE A HAPPIER YOU!
Tis the year to be a happier, healthier, best-you-can-be YOU!
xoxo
Monday, January 3, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
A picture a Day to Keep the Inspiration Today.
“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” - Albert Einstein
I want this quote to grace my experiences as I start the 365 challenge. What is that, you ask? Ah, well, it is a project where one takes a picture each day for an entire year! It isn't seen as a challenge to me, per se. This is solely due to the fact that I take many a picture, already! However, now it will be my duty to take at least 1 picture, to not only keep track of my life on a daily basis, but to (drum roll please) remain inspired!!
You could sign up to be apart of the 365 day project, by going on their website: http://365project.org/
However, I figured I can just participate via facebook and have my own 365 day album. I'm still indecisive on posting a daily blog, replicating my 365 project for blogger-land...I think that may be an over-ambitious route.
But I know, through it all, I also want to take some artsy fartsy snap shots, focusing on quality over quantity!
So, another cheers, for remaining inspired and seeing each and every day as its own special miracle.
I'd like to quietly cease my sloshing-over thoughts, for now, with another awesome quote I discovered. It will help me find those miracles in the tiniest of crevices, methinks.
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.”
- Charles R. Swindoll
xoxo
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Here's to the Unknown!
The New Year is just over that hill, past the lamp post, across the ocean, through the forrest, under the tundra, past the clouds and into the horizon. It's more like a,"Second star to the left and straight on 'til morning," sort of scene, except it isn't solely located in a child's imagination, and I don't have to fly to get there. All I have to do is live, and 2011 will come to me, if I want it to or not.
Sondheim's lyrics ring true, for I am, "Excited and scared." Both those feeling seem to fit together as well as peanut butter and jelly.
Bring on 2011. Bring the happiness, the love, the bliss, the energy, the exhilaration, the smiles, the lessons, the hope, the kisses, the encouragement, the friendships, the hard work and the accomplishments, regardless how small. This life is not one sided. Therefore, I do not beckon this new year without calling forth the heartache, the sorrow, the pain, the rejection, the confusion, the stressors, the frustration, the tears, the loneliness, the loss, the failure and the challenges that will surely touch my life in some way. Without any of the negative, it's easy to forget to be thankful for the positive. And if everything came easily, there would be no proof of truly being alive; everything would be pleasant and nothing would be real, raw emotion.
"Tragedies happen. So what are you gonna do, give up? Quit? No. I realized that when your heart breaks you gotta fight like hell to stay strong - and the pain you feel, that's life. The confusion and the fear - it's there to remind you that somewhere there's something better out there and that something is worth fighting for..."
2010 has been both inspiring and heart-breaking. All I can do is take both the good and the bad, and continue to move on...one step at a time.
Tegan and Sara's song, The Con, helped me realize, that I too, am, "Capsized, staring on the edge of safe." 2011 is the year of walking the plank and taking the plunge!
Ah well- here's to the unknown!
Monday, December 27, 2010
To avoid being an unhappy artist, please steer clear of the following...
I did not find this on my own. It was on my newsfeed, posted from a wise woman, who I'm proud to say is a fellow New Paltz alum. Thank you Kay Kerimian, for always putting things into perspective.
As Long as You Love Me So, Let is Snow...
It is December 27th...soon to be December 28th....and I have yet to go home and celebrate Christmas with my family. First, work has prevented me from getting home, and now the effects of this blizzard. Normally I would be in that, "Let it snow," state, where I'd be enjoying the flakes while sitting around a toasty fire with my family, having an extra-chocolately helping of hot cocoa. However, the-since-we-have-no-place-to-go line couldn't be farther from the truth. I do have somewhere to go, or did...
It's been quite frustrating staying home in the apartment, when I had other plans that needed to be fulfilled! But I read, exercised, and watched a movie.
I mentioned in my last blog that I have been watching a lot of movies lately. They have all pertained to Christmas and the Christmas spirit! And just now I saw Hook, that interestingly enough took place right around Christmas time. It is a truly marvelous tale that had my heart pounding with childlike anticipation. I remember liking the movie for its cleverness and fantastical storyline, but I couldn't remember the details, which is ironically similar to Peter Pan forgetting his childhood and all of Never Never Land. However, like Pan, I soon remembered, as I watched Robin Williams find his happy thought, which was being a father and having a family. Immediately after discovering this thought, he regained his flying capabilities, defeated the infamous Captain James Hook, and returned home to the ones he loved.
Unfortunately, after finishing this feel-good movie, I found out some horrible news. A girl whom I went to college with has past away. Her name was Noelle Lucivero. I couldn't claim to have known her very well, but regardless, having known someone at all who died at such a young age, is always a land-quaking experience. We were in Dance and Movement class together, and I remember her always being late or not showing to class. But she shouldn't be remembered for that. Dance was obviously her passion; she was even a dance teacher. During school, I remember her participating in Fresh Dance and represented the Dance Team. She seemed to wear leg warmers, all year round, which actually suited her nicely. I remember her in one Freshdance number where they had to do many high kicks and splits. She was the smallest girl (height wise) and the last one in their Rockette-like line. She apparently sprained her ankle during the number, but nonetheless, did the final split when her turn waved in. She was a trooper, to say the least. That was FreshDance 07, my sophomore year of college. As I recall, it was also termed, "The Freshdance from Hell," due to countless people getting hurt or sick during the performance!
Apparently, Noelle was hit by a car. I know this due to Facebook. On facebook everyone is writing on her wall, stating what a beautifully talented, kind person she was, and how she will be sorely missed. These statements are addressed to her, as if she'll ever be able to log on and read them. They are all heart-felt and written with sincerity, but perhaps it's more of a cathartic ritual, to type out one's thoughts than to say them to oneself or in personal prayers. I suppose they feel like they are really talking to her, and one day she will be able to read these sentiments. I'm unsure, but I guess I'm writing my own rest in peace statement via blog rather than social network. Perhaps, then, it is not much different.
We think we're so young; so immortal! But this could happen to any of us, at any time. I'm not saying to live a life of fear, but do live a life worth living. Live a life that makes you happy, because our days are numbered, if we realize it or not. Despite materialistic gifts, high marks, and financial success, those are not the events we will remember when looking back on our happiest, most cherished moments of our lives.
I am lucky to even be alive, especially with caring friends and family. And although I wasn't able to see them as early as I would have liked, at least I will be able to actually spend time with them, AT ALL. Tomorrow, in fact, if this wind finally ceases.
Sometimes, I feel we don't get what we want in order to make us realize what really matters in our lives. Maybe, I needed this storm, to truly appreciate how much I love my family and how much I desperately wanted to get home to see them. I am guilty of taking their love and kindness for granted. It's not intentional, of course, but it definitely does happen. I have a terrible tendency of getting swept up in the little problems, that truly are exactly that: little. And similar to when I saw the Rockefeller Christmas tree, to now, after seeing Hook, I remember how amazing it is to have a family that loves me and supports me; who will wait 3 whole freakin' days to celebrate the best time of the year with me. Perhaps, it is a necessity to have occasions like these, in order to snap us back into the here and now, and remember the reasons why we live this life in the first place. Because without hope, without love, without friends and without family, life wouldn't really be much of a life at all, now would it?
Happy holidays everyone. Take in the New Year with open arms, and remember how you can make this world not only a better place for yourself, but for others as well.
As Peter Pan says, "To live would be an awfully big adventure."
x0x0
It's been quite frustrating staying home in the apartment, when I had other plans that needed to be fulfilled! But I read, exercised, and watched a movie.
I mentioned in my last blog that I have been watching a lot of movies lately. They have all pertained to Christmas and the Christmas spirit! And just now I saw Hook, that interestingly enough took place right around Christmas time. It is a truly marvelous tale that had my heart pounding with childlike anticipation. I remember liking the movie for its cleverness and fantastical storyline, but I couldn't remember the details, which is ironically similar to Peter Pan forgetting his childhood and all of Never Never Land. However, like Pan, I soon remembered, as I watched Robin Williams find his happy thought, which was being a father and having a family. Immediately after discovering this thought, he regained his flying capabilities, defeated the infamous Captain James Hook, and returned home to the ones he loved.
Unfortunately, after finishing this feel-good movie, I found out some horrible news. A girl whom I went to college with has past away. Her name was Noelle Lucivero. I couldn't claim to have known her very well, but regardless, having known someone at all who died at such a young age, is always a land-quaking experience. We were in Dance and Movement class together, and I remember her always being late or not showing to class. But she shouldn't be remembered for that. Dance was obviously her passion; she was even a dance teacher. During school, I remember her participating in Fresh Dance and represented the Dance Team. She seemed to wear leg warmers, all year round, which actually suited her nicely. I remember her in one Freshdance number where they had to do many high kicks and splits. She was the smallest girl (height wise) and the last one in their Rockette-like line. She apparently sprained her ankle during the number, but nonetheless, did the final split when her turn waved in. She was a trooper, to say the least. That was FreshDance 07, my sophomore year of college. As I recall, it was also termed, "The Freshdance from Hell," due to countless people getting hurt or sick during the performance!
Apparently, Noelle was hit by a car. I know this due to Facebook. On facebook everyone is writing on her wall, stating what a beautifully talented, kind person she was, and how she will be sorely missed. These statements are addressed to her, as if she'll ever be able to log on and read them. They are all heart-felt and written with sincerity, but perhaps it's more of a cathartic ritual, to type out one's thoughts than to say them to oneself or in personal prayers. I suppose they feel like they are really talking to her, and one day she will be able to read these sentiments. I'm unsure, but I guess I'm writing my own rest in peace statement via blog rather than social network. Perhaps, then, it is not much different.
We think we're so young; so immortal! But this could happen to any of us, at any time. I'm not saying to live a life of fear, but do live a life worth living. Live a life that makes you happy, because our days are numbered, if we realize it or not. Despite materialistic gifts, high marks, and financial success, those are not the events we will remember when looking back on our happiest, most cherished moments of our lives.
I am lucky to even be alive, especially with caring friends and family. And although I wasn't able to see them as early as I would have liked, at least I will be able to actually spend time with them, AT ALL. Tomorrow, in fact, if this wind finally ceases.
Sometimes, I feel we don't get what we want in order to make us realize what really matters in our lives. Maybe, I needed this storm, to truly appreciate how much I love my family and how much I desperately wanted to get home to see them. I am guilty of taking their love and kindness for granted. It's not intentional, of course, but it definitely does happen. I have a terrible tendency of getting swept up in the little problems, that truly are exactly that: little. And similar to when I saw the Rockefeller Christmas tree, to now, after seeing Hook, I remember how amazing it is to have a family that loves me and supports me; who will wait 3 whole freakin' days to celebrate the best time of the year with me. Perhaps, it is a necessity to have occasions like these, in order to snap us back into the here and now, and remember the reasons why we live this life in the first place. Because without hope, without love, without friends and without family, life wouldn't really be much of a life at all, now would it?
Happy holidays everyone. Take in the New Year with open arms, and remember how you can make this world not only a better place for yourself, but for others as well.
As Peter Pan says, "To live would be an awfully big adventure."
x0x0
Saturday, December 25, 2010
It's True Wherever You Find Love, it Feels Like Christmas!
Today is Christmas Eve. Well, since it's almost 1:30AM I guess it really is Christmas day, technically. Like Thanksgiving, I was quite depressed by being scheduled to work on a family holiday. I've never been from my family during these important times of the year, and originally it was somewhat hard to cope; especially for Christmas. I was trying to scheme all kinds of ways to get around it. At first, I was planning on leaving after my shift ended at eight pm on Christmas Eve, and going home on the train late that night. I'd wake up early on Christmas day, open gifts, and head back to the city for work by noon. Although I'd be able to spend family time on the official day, I would be as exhausted as a gerbil stuck in a plastic ball. Then I'd be cranky and probably feel gypped due to lack of time spent home on, "Th most wonderful day of the year!" NO ONE wants those feelings to creep in around Christmas time. Besides, my shifts changed before I had time to devise a proper plan.
People were let go or moving on to bigger and better jobs this season, and so, schedules had to be rearranged for everyone. It was a somewhat upsetting surprise, but we all bounced back. Well, most of us. When I told my mom I wasn't off until the 27th of December instead of the 26th, I saw her eyes droop and brows furrow in concern. Eventually, she became a good sport about the idea, comforting me that her and the family would wait to exchange gifts and celebrate until I came home. I feel really blessed that they'd do that for me. If my brother was the one to delay my Christmas by 2 days I'd probably be miffed at him. However, I'd rather have it with him 2 days late than not have it with him at all....
Well, since I've been pretty much alone this Christmas season, I've been doing things to get myself into the spirit! I don't mean to sound sad, because even though I have been on my own this December, it's been a pretty wonderful time. Now that I'm out of school, I've actually had TIME to get into the holiday spirit. I've watched a plethora of Christmas movies that I love. I'm not kidding...I'm going to rattle off as many as I can remember.
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, The Santa Clause, A Christmas Carol (2001), Charlie Brown's Christmas, Pluto's Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, Babes in Toyland, All Dogs Christmas Carol, Frosty the Snowman, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and A Muppets Christmas Carol (2x.)
I'd NEVER get to watch all of these movies when I was still trying to piece together papers for my English classes! I've been lucky to find some of these on YouTube in sections or on instant NetFlix or Hulu. I was unsuccessful at finding The Grinch, which still makes me feel unsatisfied. That movie is a real staple in my prep for Christmas. I guess I'll have to dust off the VHS I have in one of the forgotten cabinets at home.
Another spirit booster really is living within the city itself. It's unavoidable. Decorations and lights are lit from within the stores lining Times Square, luring customers in with their soft glow, illuminating signs of so-called great sales.
One thing that truly made me miss home was not having a Christmas tree in my apartment. At home, there'd be nights I'd sit on my couch in the living room, the house lights off, reveling in the ever-changing colors intertwined within our hand-picked evergreen. The angel atop, protecting our tree and everything it stands for, over-shadowed the ornaments, with it's soft on-again-off-again light. I think it's one of the most beautiful mixtures of man and nature ever created, and for some reason, it always makes my limbs, my chest, and my shoulders, all feel lighter. At any rate, my mom, having the mom-sense tingling, gave me a small, fake Christmas tree that has been within her family for 30 years. It was soon NYC bound, a lovely sight to see. Across the street from me is a department store that literally has everything I could have imagined. I bought some decorations to spruce up my Charlie Brown tree. It's just what I needed to make it really feel like Christmas. Here, take a gander!
Isn't it nice? I even added some little, shiny presents that were one buck in total. Right now I have my wrapped gifts for my family under that small circular table, so it does feel like there are actual gifts that came from Santa.
Although I did work today, on Christmas Eve, in actuality it was a very rewarding day. I only had to work from 12-5 and I was a Greeter. I feel it was the best job I could have asked for, because the whole day I was able to wish people a Merry Christmas! I mean, there were some technicalities thrown in there, where some people were rejected admission because we were no longer accepting walk-ins, but hey- it's Christmas! There's no reason to be unhappy, even if you can't get a table! But in all seriousness, it was nice to spread some holiday cheer where...it was...spread...able? My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. And I get to do it all day tomorrow, on actual Christmas. I should probably buy a Santa Hat. I mean, they sell em all over the street. They probably aren't more than 5 bucks...
***
Well, today, since I had some time to kill, I figured I'd see the tree. You know what I'm talkin' about when I say THE tree right? Only the biggest Christmas Tree in the nation? It's in Rockefeller Center and I have yet to see it first hand. Although it was getting windier, my smile never ceased as I trekked along to see the beacon of light. I bought myself some hot chocolate and headed over to 50th street. I took some pictures along the way, capturing the giant, red christmas ornaments and the small trees, lit with gold and silver bulbs covering every inch of bark. I finally turned a bend, and there it was. I tried to count the stories its branches reached, and I believe it was 12. It was a beautiful sight to behold. I snapped a couple of shots of it's majestic size and then just sat on a bench and watched it. I felt like I was back in my living room, except it was colder, the surface was harder, and there were a lot of bundled up strangers, some speaking in tongues.
I observed those strangers. All were with family. Some of the families were taking pictures, hugging and smiling with one another. Other families, like the family sitting next to me, seemed to be frustrated, unsure what to do next. A complete humbug is the proper term. A boy around my age was whining to his mom and complaining that he didn't want to be there. I wanted to give that boy a look of havoc. You're with your family, bud, and you're looking upon the largest Christmas Tree you've ever seen with your naked eye, and instead of enjoying it you're being a little sour-puss? Grow-the-heck UP! But of course, I didn't even acknowledge their presence. Instead I wrote in my journal and just sat, enjoying my hot chocolate and watching the tree. I felt like Kevin McCallister from Home Alone 2, where on Christmas Eve he is looking up at that same tree, wishing he could see his family one last time. It was then I felt myself wishing my mom or brother or dad were there on that bench with me. Although we can sometimes lose patience with one another, it would have been nice to share this experience with one of them.
Next thing I know, this boy comes up to me and asks if there are any reasonably priced ice skating rinks around the area. I told him of the one 50ft away from him and the one in Bryant Park, but neither were considered cheap. I was being friendly and my guard was down. It's Christmas after all.
That's when he introduced himself and said to me, "Wow, you're really cute. We would have some pretty hot babies."
And my moment of solitude, watching the lights glimmer while I reflected on all that I should be thankful for? Gone. He wasn't a bad kid, but he sat down next to me while I was writing. I felt like he intruded upon my Christmas Eve without an invitation. He's a fitness trainer, so he felt my "guns," asked if I partied, smoked pot, drank a lot, if I've ever dated a younger guy (like himself) and if I've ever cheated on a boyfriend. Then he preceded to tell me how he's hooked up with a lot of girls and then afterwards they'd tell him they're in a relationship. "It's not that I'm saying all girls cheat," apparently he's just experienced a lot of them cheating, with him. Then he went on how he liked the older, mature girls, like myself. He thought I was at least 24, and when I corrected him at my actual age, a prime 22, he seemed shocked.
At any rate, personal questions were being asked and information was being volunteered that I didn't want to deal with on Christmas Eve. I felt myself getting more and more distant. My answers became shorter and I began to notice every small break between our sentences. Instead of listening to him, I found myself pondering an excuse to leave. I wanted to get to back to my apartment where I could heat up some left overs and watch another round of Muppets Christmas Carol before I crashed into sleepy land. At the end of it, he said we should hang some time. My response was a, "Maybe." That word didn't sit too well with him. He asked for my number, and I told him that I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone right now. He insisted, claiming he didn't want to either. He suggested we could go ice-skating or go for a drink, nothing fancy. I gave in, not wanting to argue on Christmas. I went to leave, sticking out my hand, but he grabbed my shoulders and gave me a hug. I tell ya...when you want to be alone, you can't! And when you can't bare to be alone no one is around! Ya just can't win!
I'm sorry for the length of this. I realize it's unnecessarily long, but I did want to end on a positive, thought-provoking note. While at work, I was getting a drink from the soda holster by the bar. The bartender, whose name escapes me at the moment, was there, and so I asked him if he was off tomorrow for Christmas. His response was no, he was not off, so he wouldn't be celebrating it this year. My face frowned automatically, feeling sorry for him. He shook off my sympathy, telling me that in this business, you can't be so hooked up on specific days. He said, everyday should be like Christmas, where you appreciate the ones you love, show kindness to others, and extend a helping hand to those in need. It shouldn't be solely one day of the year. He told me, that when one DOES have off, then you should try to see family and friends, spending those days with loved ones. Those days you have off should be well spent, and appreciated. And, in all honesty, that really hit home. Although I really am an enthusiast for celebrating holidays on the given day, these were enlightening words. I guess, even though I am working, I will have to find the holiday spirit and spread it with those I'm working with and with those I'm greeting tomorrow. The day is going to happen if I'm with my family or not, so I might as well enjoy it to the best of my ability!
Now, these words coincide with a song from the one and only, MUPPETS CHRISTMAS CAROL!
The song doesn't actually start until around 1:55. However, I would strongly suggest you watch the clip from beginning to end, because I truly love this movie in its entirety, from the bottom of my heart. I hope it makes you smile, and reminds you that the spirit of Christmas should be in your hearts all year round!
xoxo
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
People were let go or moving on to bigger and better jobs this season, and so, schedules had to be rearranged for everyone. It was a somewhat upsetting surprise, but we all bounced back. Well, most of us. When I told my mom I wasn't off until the 27th of December instead of the 26th, I saw her eyes droop and brows furrow in concern. Eventually, she became a good sport about the idea, comforting me that her and the family would wait to exchange gifts and celebrate until I came home. I feel really blessed that they'd do that for me. If my brother was the one to delay my Christmas by 2 days I'd probably be miffed at him. However, I'd rather have it with him 2 days late than not have it with him at all....
Well, since I've been pretty much alone this Christmas season, I've been doing things to get myself into the spirit! I don't mean to sound sad, because even though I have been on my own this December, it's been a pretty wonderful time. Now that I'm out of school, I've actually had TIME to get into the holiday spirit. I've watched a plethora of Christmas movies that I love. I'm not kidding...I'm going to rattle off as many as I can remember.
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, The Santa Clause, A Christmas Carol (2001), Charlie Brown's Christmas, Pluto's Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, Babes in Toyland, All Dogs Christmas Carol, Frosty the Snowman, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and A Muppets Christmas Carol (2x.)
I'd NEVER get to watch all of these movies when I was still trying to piece together papers for my English classes! I've been lucky to find some of these on YouTube in sections or on instant NetFlix or Hulu. I was unsuccessful at finding The Grinch, which still makes me feel unsatisfied. That movie is a real staple in my prep for Christmas. I guess I'll have to dust off the VHS I have in one of the forgotten cabinets at home.
Another spirit booster really is living within the city itself. It's unavoidable. Decorations and lights are lit from within the stores lining Times Square, luring customers in with their soft glow, illuminating signs of so-called great sales.
One thing that truly made me miss home was not having a Christmas tree in my apartment. At home, there'd be nights I'd sit on my couch in the living room, the house lights off, reveling in the ever-changing colors intertwined within our hand-picked evergreen. The angel atop, protecting our tree and everything it stands for, over-shadowed the ornaments, with it's soft on-again-off-again light. I think it's one of the most beautiful mixtures of man and nature ever created, and for some reason, it always makes my limbs, my chest, and my shoulders, all feel lighter. At any rate, my mom, having the mom-sense tingling, gave me a small, fake Christmas tree that has been within her family for 30 years. It was soon NYC bound, a lovely sight to see. Across the street from me is a department store that literally has everything I could have imagined. I bought some decorations to spruce up my Charlie Brown tree. It's just what I needed to make it really feel like Christmas. Here, take a gander!
Although I did work today, on Christmas Eve, in actuality it was a very rewarding day. I only had to work from 12-5 and I was a Greeter. I feel it was the best job I could have asked for, because the whole day I was able to wish people a Merry Christmas! I mean, there were some technicalities thrown in there, where some people were rejected admission because we were no longer accepting walk-ins, but hey- it's Christmas! There's no reason to be unhappy, even if you can't get a table! But in all seriousness, it was nice to spread some holiday cheer where...it was...spread...able? My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. And I get to do it all day tomorrow, on actual Christmas. I should probably buy a Santa Hat. I mean, they sell em all over the street. They probably aren't more than 5 bucks...
***
Well, today, since I had some time to kill, I figured I'd see the tree. You know what I'm talkin' about when I say THE tree right? Only the biggest Christmas Tree in the nation? It's in Rockefeller Center and I have yet to see it first hand. Although it was getting windier, my smile never ceased as I trekked along to see the beacon of light. I bought myself some hot chocolate and headed over to 50th street. I took some pictures along the way, capturing the giant, red christmas ornaments and the small trees, lit with gold and silver bulbs covering every inch of bark. I finally turned a bend, and there it was. I tried to count the stories its branches reached, and I believe it was 12. It was a beautiful sight to behold. I snapped a couple of shots of it's majestic size and then just sat on a bench and watched it. I felt like I was back in my living room, except it was colder, the surface was harder, and there were a lot of bundled up strangers, some speaking in tongues.
I observed those strangers. All were with family. Some of the families were taking pictures, hugging and smiling with one another. Other families, like the family sitting next to me, seemed to be frustrated, unsure what to do next. A complete humbug is the proper term. A boy around my age was whining to his mom and complaining that he didn't want to be there. I wanted to give that boy a look of havoc. You're with your family, bud, and you're looking upon the largest Christmas Tree you've ever seen with your naked eye, and instead of enjoying it you're being a little sour-puss? Grow-the-heck UP! But of course, I didn't even acknowledge their presence. Instead I wrote in my journal and just sat, enjoying my hot chocolate and watching the tree. I felt like Kevin McCallister from Home Alone 2, where on Christmas Eve he is looking up at that same tree, wishing he could see his family one last time. It was then I felt myself wishing my mom or brother or dad were there on that bench with me. Although we can sometimes lose patience with one another, it would have been nice to share this experience with one of them.
Next thing I know, this boy comes up to me and asks if there are any reasonably priced ice skating rinks around the area. I told him of the one 50ft away from him and the one in Bryant Park, but neither were considered cheap. I was being friendly and my guard was down. It's Christmas after all.
That's when he introduced himself and said to me, "Wow, you're really cute. We would have some pretty hot babies."
And my moment of solitude, watching the lights glimmer while I reflected on all that I should be thankful for? Gone. He wasn't a bad kid, but he sat down next to me while I was writing. I felt like he intruded upon my Christmas Eve without an invitation. He's a fitness trainer, so he felt my "guns," asked if I partied, smoked pot, drank a lot, if I've ever dated a younger guy (like himself) and if I've ever cheated on a boyfriend. Then he preceded to tell me how he's hooked up with a lot of girls and then afterwards they'd tell him they're in a relationship. "It's not that I'm saying all girls cheat," apparently he's just experienced a lot of them cheating, with him. Then he went on how he liked the older, mature girls, like myself. He thought I was at least 24, and when I corrected him at my actual age, a prime 22, he seemed shocked.
At any rate, personal questions were being asked and information was being volunteered that I didn't want to deal with on Christmas Eve. I felt myself getting more and more distant. My answers became shorter and I began to notice every small break between our sentences. Instead of listening to him, I found myself pondering an excuse to leave. I wanted to get to back to my apartment where I could heat up some left overs and watch another round of Muppets Christmas Carol before I crashed into sleepy land. At the end of it, he said we should hang some time. My response was a, "Maybe." That word didn't sit too well with him. He asked for my number, and I told him that I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone right now. He insisted, claiming he didn't want to either. He suggested we could go ice-skating or go for a drink, nothing fancy. I gave in, not wanting to argue on Christmas. I went to leave, sticking out my hand, but he grabbed my shoulders and gave me a hug. I tell ya...when you want to be alone, you can't! And when you can't bare to be alone no one is around! Ya just can't win!
I'm sorry for the length of this. I realize it's unnecessarily long, but I did want to end on a positive, thought-provoking note. While at work, I was getting a drink from the soda holster by the bar. The bartender, whose name escapes me at the moment, was there, and so I asked him if he was off tomorrow for Christmas. His response was no, he was not off, so he wouldn't be celebrating it this year. My face frowned automatically, feeling sorry for him. He shook off my sympathy, telling me that in this business, you can't be so hooked up on specific days. He said, everyday should be like Christmas, where you appreciate the ones you love, show kindness to others, and extend a helping hand to those in need. It shouldn't be solely one day of the year. He told me, that when one DOES have off, then you should try to see family and friends, spending those days with loved ones. Those days you have off should be well spent, and appreciated. And, in all honesty, that really hit home. Although I really am an enthusiast for celebrating holidays on the given day, these were enlightening words. I guess, even though I am working, I will have to find the holiday spirit and spread it with those I'm working with and with those I'm greeting tomorrow. The day is going to happen if I'm with my family or not, so I might as well enjoy it to the best of my ability!
Now, these words coincide with a song from the one and only, MUPPETS CHRISTMAS CAROL!
xoxo
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Friday, December 24, 2010
Spin-Cycle Success!
Ok, I know I will sound absolutely batty, but since I've moved here, and that's been since the middle of October mind you, I have not used a laundry mat. Laundromat? Laundrymat? Ok I just looked it up, and it is Laundromat. My whole life I've totally pronounced it Laun-dree-mat. I don't even know how to say it properly. Well, that makes me look competent.
Anyway, yeeeees I have been washing my clothes. Every time I travel home via LIRR, which seems to be weekly, I take a black, rolly suitcase full of my dirty clothes. Mom's always thrilled. However, I haven't been there in a while and it was time for me to take the icy, cold plunge into the foreign waters of Laundromat Land.
I guess the reason I dreaded it so, was not because of the places itself or because I had to pay, but because I knew I'd have NO idea what I was doing. Sure I used the school laundry rooms all the time. Well, when I say all the time, I mean when laundry became so highly piled in my closet, I knew I could could no longer ignore its presence. However, those machines were easy peasy, and they were located in my building! This is completely different and foreign! I decided to go to the Laundromat across the street, which has been warned by my roommate and his girlfriend. I guess there were some machines there that didn't work when they had a go at the facilities. However, I just couldn't resist the brightly yellow painted interior, nor the white Christmas lights hanging inside from all its corners.
I felt I had good laundry-day attire on, as odd as that sounds. I had striped leggins, a striped thermal covered by a some-what large button up sweater and my cable knit cap. The color sequence was mostly blues, grays and dark purples. I felt subdued and somewhat city-bum, which strangely enough, was comforting. My look also seemed effortless, and you guessed it, like I ran out of clothes to wear.
Well, I entered with my brave face on, carrying my turquoise laundry bag over my shoulder like St. Nicholas. It was pretty much abandoned except for two ladies washing their clothes, and one woman sweeping the floor. There were signs everywhere, in both English and Spanish, describing how there are no refunds if you over-soap your load, how they aren't responsible for lost clothes, etc. I guess you really just have to cover your ass, in every business. Everything was yellow though, which I loved. The golden, somewhat dark yellow color tried to over-compensate for the poor condition of the walls, lined with smudges and marks from people and large apparatuses alike. Even the signs were this color. The only thing that contrasted was the blaring silver machines staring at each other from across the building.
Now the fun started; washing. I pretty much looked like a lost child in a mall from the very start. There's no denying that. I only brought my work clothes over, so if I messed up in some unforgiving way, I would be totally screwed and have nothing to wear five days of the week. Perfect. I studied the washing machines, and figured I would try the medium sized washer, however, these didn't have a price blinking on them. The smaller ones were $1.75 a load, the largest one was $6.50 a load, and the middle ones were somewhere in between, but where, exactly, I couldn't tell you. So I had to shuffle on over to the sweeping lady and ask her. She drew out $4.50 with her fingers while slowly saying, "four, five, zero," in a heavy Spanish accent. Since I had nothing to compare it to, I decided that must be a decent price. As I headed back to my chosen machine, I realized there was only a slot for quarters. Now I had some quarters in my possession, but not four dollars and fifty cents worth. So I apologetically asked the woman again, mid-sweep, where I could get quarters. I explained with a lot of hand motions that I saw the ATM and I had cash, but not enough in cents. Apparently the machine was right behind her. That was another "Doiy," moment. I was about to insert one paper honest Abe, when I realized another woman wanted to use the change machine too. I gestured for her to use it first, but she insisted I go. Secretly, I would have rather she gone. Then I could quietly observe her tricks of the trade, and in turn obviously look like a laundromat pro!
This woman's kindness didn't cease, however! After I let the machine eat my cash, she made sure to place her hand in front of lip where the quarters were falling into. That way, none splashed onto the floor and out of sight. Later on she suggested I use the smaller machines because, "they best." I asked her if they fit large loads, but she pointed to her decent sized pile and nodded. I'll take advice from nice, local ladies anytime! The woman I am renting from was completely right when she told me some of these Dominican and Spanish families really do take you under your wing. Here I was almost fearful that these ladies would laugh at me and call me "estupida," but one of them gave me advice without me even asking for it! She can just see the question marks in my eyes. Those are pretty apparent in any language, I suppose.
Anyway, I sat and did my laundry, like a true ADD-ULT. At that moment, I could almost be in an indie movie, and as I was writing in my journal with my laundry on spin cycle, a handsome young man would enter. He would be as clueless as I was moments earlier, since this would be his first time here, and he'd ask me if there was a change machine. I'd bring him to it, and then I'd be the one holding my hand in front to save his quarters from clanging into crevasses unknown. He'd laugh and then I'd laugh and then we'd both be laughing...and then we'd tell our children how we met one cold December night.
It felt I said. Obviously there was no man. But there was plenty of soap operas in spanish! From time to time I'd take breaks from writing to watching the screen above, which depicted women in pounds of lavishly displayed cosmetics, crying in every clip, without, mind you, mascara running down their cheeks. Their skill for instant-cry mode is envy-worthy and their make-up is as perfect as if done by drag queens themselves. Those are two things I've learned thus far from the spanish soap genre.
At any rate, I'm proud nothing shrunk, over-soaped, became stuck, tore, molded or stained in this process. I still have one more load, at least, chilling on my floor...in the laundry bag, MA! They are not just on my floor scattered about. So I will have to go to the "Yellow Room," once more. It will give me a chance to imagine my own laundromat soap opera, in English, as I sit and wait on the sun-beam colored bench. Or I could just watch more Soy Tu Duena.
Until more clothes need a'washin'.....
x0x0
Kristen
Anyway, yeeeees I have been washing my clothes. Every time I travel home via LIRR, which seems to be weekly, I take a black, rolly suitcase full of my dirty clothes. Mom's always thrilled. However, I haven't been there in a while and it was time for me to take the icy, cold plunge into the foreign waters of Laundromat Land.
I guess the reason I dreaded it so, was not because of the places itself or because I had to pay, but because I knew I'd have NO idea what I was doing. Sure I used the school laundry rooms all the time. Well, when I say all the time, I mean when laundry became so highly piled in my closet, I knew I could could no longer ignore its presence. However, those machines were easy peasy, and they were located in my building! This is completely different and foreign! I decided to go to the Laundromat across the street, which has been warned by my roommate and his girlfriend. I guess there were some machines there that didn't work when they had a go at the facilities. However, I just couldn't resist the brightly yellow painted interior, nor the white Christmas lights hanging inside from all its corners.
I felt I had good laundry-day attire on, as odd as that sounds. I had striped leggins, a striped thermal covered by a some-what large button up sweater and my cable knit cap. The color sequence was mostly blues, grays and dark purples. I felt subdued and somewhat city-bum, which strangely enough, was comforting. My look also seemed effortless, and you guessed it, like I ran out of clothes to wear.
Well, I entered with my brave face on, carrying my turquoise laundry bag over my shoulder like St. Nicholas. It was pretty much abandoned except for two ladies washing their clothes, and one woman sweeping the floor. There were signs everywhere, in both English and Spanish, describing how there are no refunds if you over-soap your load, how they aren't responsible for lost clothes, etc. I guess you really just have to cover your ass, in every business. Everything was yellow though, which I loved. The golden, somewhat dark yellow color tried to over-compensate for the poor condition of the walls, lined with smudges and marks from people and large apparatuses alike. Even the signs were this color. The only thing that contrasted was the blaring silver machines staring at each other from across the building.
Now the fun started; washing. I pretty much looked like a lost child in a mall from the very start. There's no denying that. I only brought my work clothes over, so if I messed up in some unforgiving way, I would be totally screwed and have nothing to wear five days of the week. Perfect. I studied the washing machines, and figured I would try the medium sized washer, however, these didn't have a price blinking on them. The smaller ones were $1.75 a load, the largest one was $6.50 a load, and the middle ones were somewhere in between, but where, exactly, I couldn't tell you. So I had to shuffle on over to the sweeping lady and ask her. She drew out $4.50 with her fingers while slowly saying, "four, five, zero," in a heavy Spanish accent. Since I had nothing to compare it to, I decided that must be a decent price. As I headed back to my chosen machine, I realized there was only a slot for quarters. Now I had some quarters in my possession, but not four dollars and fifty cents worth. So I apologetically asked the woman again, mid-sweep, where I could get quarters. I explained with a lot of hand motions that I saw the ATM and I had cash, but not enough in cents. Apparently the machine was right behind her. That was another "Doiy," moment. I was about to insert one paper honest Abe, when I realized another woman wanted to use the change machine too. I gestured for her to use it first, but she insisted I go. Secretly, I would have rather she gone. Then I could quietly observe her tricks of the trade, and in turn obviously look like a laundromat pro!
This woman's kindness didn't cease, however! After I let the machine eat my cash, she made sure to place her hand in front of lip where the quarters were falling into. That way, none splashed onto the floor and out of sight. Later on she suggested I use the smaller machines because, "they best." I asked her if they fit large loads, but she pointed to her decent sized pile and nodded. I'll take advice from nice, local ladies anytime! The woman I am renting from was completely right when she told me some of these Dominican and Spanish families really do take you under your wing. Here I was almost fearful that these ladies would laugh at me and call me "estupida," but one of them gave me advice without me even asking for it! She can just see the question marks in my eyes. Those are pretty apparent in any language, I suppose.
Anyway, I sat and did my laundry, like a true ADD-ULT. At that moment, I could almost be in an indie movie, and as I was writing in my journal with my laundry on spin cycle, a handsome young man would enter. He would be as clueless as I was moments earlier, since this would be his first time here, and he'd ask me if there was a change machine. I'd bring him to it, and then I'd be the one holding my hand in front to save his quarters from clanging into crevasses unknown. He'd laugh and then I'd laugh and then we'd both be laughing...and then we'd tell our children how we met one cold December night.
It felt I said. Obviously there was no man. But there was plenty of soap operas in spanish! From time to time I'd take breaks from writing to watching the screen above, which depicted women in pounds of lavishly displayed cosmetics, crying in every clip, without, mind you, mascara running down their cheeks. Their skill for instant-cry mode is envy-worthy and their make-up is as perfect as if done by drag queens themselves. Those are two things I've learned thus far from the spanish soap genre.
At any rate, I'm proud nothing shrunk, over-soaped, became stuck, tore, molded or stained in this process. I still have one more load, at least, chilling on my floor...in the laundry bag, MA! They are not just on my floor scattered about. So I will have to go to the "Yellow Room," once more. It will give me a chance to imagine my own laundromat soap opera, in English, as I sit and wait on the sun-beam colored bench. Or I could just watch more Soy Tu Duena.
Until more clothes need a'washin'.....
x0x0
Kristen
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