Sticks and Stones .. And Sand .. And Pebbles .. And Beer?

A friend of mine just sent this to me in an email. I thought I'd share it.

A philosophy professor stood before his class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he pick up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, rocks about 2 inches in diameter.

He then asked the students if the jar was full? They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, or course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous- yes!

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and proceeded to pour their entire contents into the jar- effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.



"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided. "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things- your family, your partner, your health, your children- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car, the sand is everything else- the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued "there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal. Take care of the rocks first--the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple beers!"



- May (you gather the right stones).

Was That There Before?

So, yesterday, my Facebook wife and I grabbed some Thai food. As we were waiting for our food to be made, we decided to take a walk up and down Main Street in that particular town. On our way back to the store, we stumbled upon this little park that's apparently been in existence for two years. Neither of us had ever seen it before -- and I drive up and down that road a lot.



The park was small, but beautiful. It had plaques with different etchings on it as you entered, and an obelisk fountain in the middle.



We took some pictures around the park, enjoying the brisk breeze and sunlight we'd been blessed with. It seemed like such a quiet little oasis in the middle of a bustling street, right in a town that's been trying to build itself up for years. New restaurants keep popping all over, new places with owners who are hopeful and praying their business sticks.



And as we left and walked back to the Thai restaurant (yummy green beans with garlic, tofu, and scallions for me and chicken pad Thai for her!), I couldn't help but wonder what else I'd been missing in my constant jet-setting pace of life. The park was so unassuming that I'd never even noticed before -- not once in the two years of driving back and forth on that road. And the park wasn't small enough to really be missed. What else was I not seeing?



I was reminded of what Jason Mraz often quotes as his favorite song:

Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream.

So, I ask you -- what are you missing? What have you been blinded to in your need to reach your next destination? A friendship, maybe? Or perhaps love. Stop speed-boating down the stream and take the time to simply row.

This life is but a dream -- before you know it, it'll be over. What will you remember?



- May (you open your eyes).

Etsy, Etsy, Etsy!

I finally put stuff up on my Etsy shop! There'll be more coming soon! :) Check it out and buy something, if you're compelled!


Obvious Answers on Etsy, by May

Artistry

Inspired by the likes of one of my favorite artists, Andre Jordan (with a hint of Marc Johns), I decided to do some random doodles today. They're not meant to be works of ART as it's typically known. The point is to do adult satire with child-like drawings. That's how I see it, anyway. Plus, it's fun. :)

There are seven total, two of which are together. Instead of filling up your page with them, I'm going to post one and then you can click the links for the others!


"Approximations aren't usually accurate."

P***y cat has been changed to Vagina Cat because it's more politically correct.

I never could figure out how to do things to scale.

The ___ and the ___. They're actually mortal enemies.

Small print: May result in broken glass.

Thanks for all the times I climbed your branches. But seriously. Do something with your life. Get a job.

Don't press that soft spot. Unless you need a make-shift ashtrayy.

- May (you find the humor in everything.)

Reconciling Possibilty

Funny the way it is, if you think about it:
Somebody's going hungry and someone else is eating out.
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong.
Somebody's heart is broken and it becomes your favorite song.

My thoughts always seem to jump from one topic to the next, like a skilled acrobat in some circus production I don't quite understand. Maybe it's the Cirque du Soleil of the mind that I'm viewing. The colors and movements are beautiful, fluid, but when it comes down to it -- it's a little too abstract to fully grasp. Maybe I'm not supposed to grasp it. Maybe I'm merely meant to be grateful to have thoughts at all.

Still, it makes me wonder. What I think about sometimes is what makes one person more fortunate than another? Why was I saved from what could have been a life of poverty, hunger, and despair when there are children who weren't saved? Why do I get paid to sit on the computer and answer phones when there are people who can't even imagine what a computer is? When there are people who've lost their jobs and are struggling to stay afloat? Why do I complain about different foods that I don't like to eat (namely, seafood) when there are children who haven't eaten in days?

What and where is the thread that separates the two worlds?

Funny the way it is, if you think about it:
One kid walks 10 miles to school, another's dropping out.
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong.
On a soldier's last breath, his baby's being born.

Perhaps we're not meant to know. I do think that a part of this life is the idea that we're meant to discover. We're meant to explore. We're meant to find the answers for ourselves. And maybe we'll never really find them. Maybe they will always elude us, like wisps of smoke. Maybe no matter how hard you try to curl your fingers around them, they will always seep through our grasp.

And, more importantly, maybe that's okay.

Maybe that's the Universe's way of telling us that there is always a reason to stay humble.

We are so insignificant when it boils down to it: we've been on earth for the shortest amount of time in comparison with animals, trees, and other means of life; no matter our technology, countries and people are still devastated by natural disasters; no matter what we do to try and stop those disasters, we cannot control Gaia when she's angry; we are easily swallowed up in the ocean, which is home to so many creatures that have adapted and evolved to live there, yet people still drown; despite our attempts to control and "domesticate" animals, they will always be higher than us on the food chain (think: tiger, lion, alligator, etc.); and we have been searching for the answers to life's biggest questions since the time of the Greek Philosophers but have come up with nothing.

I think a part of that is the fact that it depends upon your perception. The diversity amongst people is easily seen -- differences in tastes in movies, music, books; family traditions; differences between geographical location; varying accents; and so on and so forth. What I consider to be living "The Good Life" may not be what someone else considers. Someone may consider "The Good Life" only having the biggest house, the fastest cars, and the most expensive accessories. Others may consider it to be family and friends, to hell with the possessions.

But I think that, big or small, red or blue, here or there, we're all asking the same question: why?

Standing on a bridge, watch the water passing under me.
It must've been much harder when there was no bridge, just water.
Now the world is small.
Remember how it used to be with
Mountains and oceans and winters and rivers and stars?

I don't have an answer. I don't know why I was fortunate in ways when others weren't. I don't know why I am spoiled with air conditioning, technology, food when I'm hungry, a bed when I'm tired, a home to go back to at the end of the day. I don't know. But when and if I figure it out, I'll let you know.

Watch the sky, the jet planes, so far out of my reach
Is there someone up there looking down on me?

- May (you never stop wondering).

[Bolded text from "Funny the Way It Is," by Dave Matthews Band]

Skeptics, sceptics, stop!

For any of you skeptics out there who are thinking to yourself, "There's no way that sort of positive shit works. It's a load of crap. The Universe can't 'reciprocate' whatever you give it. Life doesn't work that way," I'm going to share with you some recent examples from my life to show you that it's true.

I found out not too long ago that the job I have right now working as an Office Assistant is going to terminate. The program doesn't have enough funding to keep me on at $17.50/hour, so rather than cutting a position that's absolutely vital to the smooth running of the program, they cut mine. I wasn't upset -- I knew it was coming. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what I was going to do for a job. I couldn't not work for long.

The Associate Dean of the program sat me down in his office and told me that his wife, who works at Columbia University, was creating a new position that he wanted to recommend me for. It would be on the Level 10 or 11 pay (somewhere around $45 - $49k a year) and would consist mainly of clerical things, helping to implement new programs at the school, researching, etc. All of the stuff that I pretty much do at my current job. I quickly got caught up in the idea of becoming a full-time employee at what used to be my dream school. My mom and I had a huge fight about it -- the biggest we've probably had -- but I gave him my resume anyway, just to keep my options open.

Then I remembered that, back in July, a woman from Apple had emailed me to tell me they were considering me for a job. At that time, though, I was already employed and had to turn down the only job I'd ever really wanted. As I remember, I was devastated. She told me to get back in touch with her when this job terminated, though, so I sent her an email to see if she would still consider me.

Another woman wrote me back the next day to tell me that they wanted to set up a phone interview. We chatted briefly on the phone and then she asked me to come into the store a little before closing last night for a formal interview with another candidate. Obviously, I said yes.

All day yesterday, I was bouncing around, excited as all hell. After I had calmed down, I really thought about the situation. While I had been upset, of course, that my job was going to end, I kept my mind open to any other possibility. I told myself, and convinced myself, that I would find another job. That the Universe would help me find the next step. And that, by the time classes started up in September, I would be employed.

Of course, the Universe listened -- and, what's more, it delivered. When one door closes, the Universe opens a window, right?

I stayed positive after the interview, even though there was a large part of me that was doubtful. I made that part of me shut up because it was hindering my ability to tell the Universe what I wanted. I said to myself that I got the job, that I was going to hear back and they were going to tell me I was hired. I said to myself that the interview went well, despite any of the doubts I may have had, and that I had made a good impression on the woman.

Sure enough, this morning I received a call from the Store Manager who told me he wanted me to come in and sign paper work. He said he was getting a little ahead of himself with the paper work, but it wouldn't hurt to get it all done. I told my boss and asked to leave early -- at seeing how deliriously excited I was, she obviously agreed.

As I sit in my living room, 1 step away from being a legitimate Apple employee (they need to do a background check first), I can honestly say that YES, the Universe does reciprocate what you ask of it. But it's not enough just to say, "I hope I get this" or "I really wish I had that." You have to tell yourself, "I will get this" and "I will have that." I told myself that I was going to get this job. I was going to be hired by the one company I want to work for. I was going to celebrate on Sunday with a newly formed friend. I was going to have good news for everyone in my family and my friends. And sure enough, here I am, unable to stop smiling with sore eyes from crying tears of pure joy.

So, the next time you think that life is full of problems and full of struggle, ask yourself what you're doing to change it. Are you doing anything at all? It's not enough to wish for something. It's not enough to complain about something. If you think negatively, you will draw negativity to you. If you think pessimistically, you will draw in despair and depression. You have to actively take part in making the changes, in achieving your goals, in doing whatever it is you want to do. You'll be amazed at how your world opens up.

The Universe is knocking. Are you going to answer?



- May (you have the courage to start over again).

on the eve

Also posted in Pen and Paper Addicts

When you breathe, you inhale and exhale,
but every single time you do that,
you're a little bit different than the one before.
WE'RE ALWAYS CHANGING.
and it's important to know that there are some changes
you can't control and there are others you can.
-- Taken from here.

one breath enters while another runs away,
screaming that it's not ready to fly.
can't you feel the impending revolution?
the drums beat from within your ivory cage.
marching, marching ... they are coming.

don't you feel the invasion?
it plunders and pillages on a molecular level.
organ by organ,
vein by vein.
until you have cavalries spilling from your teeth.

you canonot stop them;
you are no Fort Knox.

one breath enters while another runs away,
clinging to the battle cries of its predecessor.
"i am not ready!
you cannot make me go!"

they are here,
ready to overthrow the imaginary tyrant
you think you have become and always been.
but illusions no more.
your dream is well beyond its expiration date.
lay down your invisible sword and intangible shield.
they can no longer serve you
as you can no longer serve yourself.

don't you feel the invasion?

Check Check 1-2

Not too much to report on. Things are cruising along wonderfully.

It's hard to believe that it's already August. When did that happen? .. Well, I guess the technical answer would be 5 days ago, but that's besides the point.

I've started trying a new coconut water from Zico. I ran out of O.N.E. yesterday, and since I seem to have bad automobile luck in Huntington, I drove to a different store in East Bumblefuck. I mean East Setauket. They didn't have any O.N.E. in stock so I had to opt for the other (and unfortunately more expensive) brand, Zico. I'm not going to lie -- I miss the metallic packaging of the O.N.E brand. It just looked so .. refreshing, collecting con-den-sa-tion (reference to Family Guy) in the fridge. Oh well.

Didn't buy either of the other two flavors offered (Passion Fruit and Mango), but they may be my next adventure. I have to keep this Vitamineral Green interesting somehow!

Also, I know I've already said this, but holy crap. The differences I've felt from using Vitamineral Green have literally be astounding. My mind is blown. Look, there's brain splatter over there. It's unbelievable. I have so much energy and I don't get that post-caffeine crash I'd get with coffee. I have two cups every day -- once in the morning and once after I get back from lunch. I'm good to go until around 11 or 12, when I force myself to go to sleep. Most of the time, though, I could keep going until God knows when.

It's a little pricey ($19.95 for 150gm, and with S&H, it works out to about $30), but I don't think I'll ever be able to stop using it. Not after what I've felt and experienced. Apparently, it's also a good counter cleaner. JMraz's brother spilled his VMGreen shake or something on the counter, where there were cherry juice stains, and after wiping the spill up, the stains were gone! This stuff really is amazing.

I like to think of it de-staining my insides. Not that I'm making a habit of ingesting dye or anything. The folks at Healthforce Nutritionals also gave some sample packets of a few of their other products. I plan on trying those soon, too. I'll let you know how it goes.

- May (you find rejuvenation).

Reflecting Like a Mirror

I've been drinking O.N.E. Coconut Water with a heaping teaspoon of Vitamineral Green every morning this week. I've already felt the difference and it's ridiculous.

Let me give you a brief background. I am not a morning person. I have never been a morning person. Most times, if I had to wake up before noon, I'd grumble one-word responses and cut through anyone who looked at me wrong. Or looked at me, in general. My mom learned to avoid talking to me in the wee hours of the morning. Unless, of course, I'm carrying over from the night before. I'm a bit nocturnal -- I'd rather stay up 'til 5 or 6 AM from the night before than wake up at 5 or 6 AM.

But I knew that having a 9 - 5 office job meant having to be remotely sociable and human in the morning. So when I read about JMraz's use of Coconut H20 and Vitamineral Green to get himself energized, I knew it was exactly what I needed. And he wasn't lying, let me tell you. I feel so alert and connected with things around me whenever I've had it. I don't even crave coffee -- which is more or less a miracle in itself. I don't need it. And coffee, for me, took hours upon hours to actually kick in. And then it lasted a mere 15 minutes before I'd crash again, more tired than before ingestion. With this combination, though, I'm energized all day. It fills me up the way a good breakfast does. And man, does it clear me out.

Without going into detail, let's just say any sort of toxins I had in my body have been vacated. Through my intestines, both big and small. Nothing ridiculous, but it's just another testament to all the crap (no pun intended) we put into our bodies every day. Even if you think you're eating healthy, you're still taking in some level of bad things that have to get out somehow.

On another, completely unrelated note, I was in a minor fender bender yesterday. As I told my mom, I didn't even have my phone near me (I am sometimes guilty of texting while driving -- mainly due to the fact that I don't have to look at the keys to do it; I've memorized them). I was focused completely on the road, but apparently not on the car and how wide it was. Which is ironic, since my car is a Ford Focus.

All that aside, I pulled around a car in the Straight Lane when I was trying to get to the Left Turn Lane. I clipped my mirror on her back light, which barely got a scratch. My mirror, however, was hanging like a loose tooth off the side of the passenger side door.

After coming out of the shock and recovering from how bad it sounded (ever notice how little things on a car sound absolutely horrible?), she got out of her car and started yelling at me about how it looked like I was going to drive off and how I didn't stop to see if she'd gotten damage on her car. Because I'm really going to stop in the middle of a busy road in a turn lane, get out of my car, inspect hers, and then get run over. Right. I explained that I was pulling over where it was safe to do so, rather than putting myself at risk of getting killed. She started blabbing about something else, I pretty much drowned her out. She muttered things with her arms flailing as she walked back to her car.

Anyway, things were fine. I was grateful to be okay. I wanted to say a lot of things to her that wouldn't have gone along with my Buddhist attitude about life, but I didn't. I knew it wouldn't have helped the situation. I was amazed at how much she assumed about me, though -- like that I was going to drive away. It was a startling reminder to me to never presume to know anything about anyone -- because I don't. And I won't, unless they tell me. And even then, it may not be entire truths.

Things being fine didn't mean that I didn't start crying after she pulled away, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. It wasn't even that I was upset -- I didn't care, it was just a mirror and it still works. I was just so rattled by the entire experience and the only way I know to de-stress is by crying. So I drove to Wild By Nature to buy some more coconut water, went into Rite-Aid and bought some super tough tape, and taped my mirror back onto the door. I told my mom what happened, she called my dad, who's going to call the woman. Things were all right.

I just realized that optimism has to be tested for it to last. Being happy and looking at things in an eternally positive light is easy when things are going your way and things are peachy keen jelly bean. It's when that picture-perfect situation gets rattled that your true optimism shines. I think I made it through.

I think this is here to stay.

- May (you test your boundaries).

Reporting Live

After having a brief conversation with someone I went to school with, he mentioned that he missed college, or at least the city.

I thought about it and realized .. I don't miss it. That's not to say I don't miss spending more time with the people I'd come to love, or that I don't miss random little things about the campus (like the fountain by Hunt-Cavanaugh or the way the leaves were always treacherously slippery up the Guzman Hill and by Sullivan Hall when I cut through the path between the trees because I was always late for work). But .. I'm okay. I see that part of my life as having lived out its short, four-year life. I gained the experiences I needed, I made life-long friends, I grew, I found myself, I figured some parts of my life out, I struggled and stared Death straight in the face and then told him to go fuck himself, I made it through and walked across that stage.

I was ready to go. I was ready for the next chapter of my life. I've somehow gotten to a place of complete .. peace. I'm no longer living in the past. I'm not looking at pictures from college longingly, wishing I could have more moments. Because somehow, having more would diminish the ones I already have. I know that I'll see my friends as often as our schedules allow. We won't lose touch that easily. It'll require more effort than just shouting down the hall, but it'll be worth it.

I've finally figured out how to live in the moment. I have no idea how, but God damn.

It feels amazing.

- May (you choose to live).

Water, Water Everywhere

So, I bought this card when I was visiting Meg last summer at the Cape. I liked the simplistic art, the bright colors, and the typewriter-text font used. But I never really understood it. No, let me rephrase that. I understood it. But I never really got it. Catch my drift?

Anyway, if you can't read the text, it says, "She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful & life was so short." Looking at the card I have, it's actually a different illustration than the one in the picture -- it's a woman sitting with a growing plant in her hands, her tears a dotted-line that's watering it to grow. While I like this other version, I'm partial to the one I have on my wall.

There's something beautiful in that -- she's crying because the world is so beautiful and life is so short, and by allowing herself to be overwhelmed by these emotions, she's replenishing the very world she's come to love and appreciate through her tears. I hope to do this every day -- to be so overcome with emotion at seeing the majesty of this world that I'm moved to tears, so much so that I will water the earth I've come to adore with those very tears.

I actually had this moment not too long ago. On Saturday, after getting my hair done and getting my tattoo, I was driving home from the tattoo parlor and I literally started welling up with tears. I wasn't sad, I wasn't upset -- I was so moved by the amount of wonderful things in my life, that I could do nothing but cry.

I not only had begun this new journey of my life with his new, positive outlook, I was surrounded by people I love and care about. My brother and I spent the day together, something that doesn't happen all that often where it's just the two of us. We hung out, he fixed the a/c in my car, and took me to get my tattoo done. I was so grateful to just have him as my older brother and to have been able to share that momentous moment with him that I cried. I was so grateful to have the job and resulting paycheck to pay for the tattoo and hair that I cried. I was so grateful to have my mom supporting both of those decisions and to have my family supporting my new life that I cried.

Immediately, I felt like the woman on the card.

The world is so beautiful
And life is so short.

I will never forget these moments. I will keep them with me for the rest of this short, amazing, wondrous life. I hope you have that moment where your heart is so full that it has no other way to overflow than to make you cry tears of absolute joy. It's an experience unlike anything I've ever felt before.

- May (you live a beautiful life).

What Keeps You Up at Night?

If you haven't, do go and check out J. Mraz's newest blog post (he's been taking 12 questions via Twitter and answering them on Mondays). Pay particular attention to his answer to the last question.

It starts off like this:
----
From lindsaygee: I am 28. hard age. what worries you the most about your own life; not the world; not the environment. what keeps you up @ night.

I often ask myself: Am I doing enough? What contributions have I made today? If my list is short I will get out of bed and start typing something - often a letter or a journal entry, as if my own journal will someday amount to something (which is usually does, allowing me sort out the garbage from the recycling in my head.) Otherwise, I waste little energy on worry. What's there to be anxious about? Missing a flight or not making a phone payment can be an inconvenience, just as someone you know getting sick or even dying can be very unfortunate. But Worry is what happens when you take those misfortunes on and think you have control over them. You tell yourself that you are responsible in some way for these situations. Or worse, you've decided if the outcome isn't pleasant, there could be even more trouble for yourself and others.
----
The post goes and he sheds an amazing amount of light on what I've been trying to live: The Zen Life. It's all-around inspiring if you're looking for some sort of sign to kick your life into gear. Was there something you've been meaning to try but have been too afraid to do? An instrument to learn? A letter to write? Kind words of love to share? A fear to conquer?

The real question is: What are you waiting for?

We cannot change the past, we cannot change or alter the future; we can only control the now and even then, our control only goes so far as to stay present, to stay mindful, and to come as we are.

- May (you live the life you've dreamed of).

Saying Goodbye

So, today, as I promised myself, I did two huge things.

I got my hair highlighted. This may not seem like such a big deal, but for me, it was. I'd never done anything to my hair before, other than getting it cut. I'd always been one of those people who frowned upon artificial colors (I think it's from being in Catholic School my whole life and hearing, 'Nothing but your God-given color!' one too many times). I liked how highlights and different hair colors looked on other people, but not on me. But how could I really know what it would look like on me? I didn't, really, and I finally decided that I was sick of wondering. I wanted to actually get it done. So, I got red highlights. They're so subtle, you can barely notice them at first glance. If you sift through the layers of my now choppy hair (<3), you'll find lots of red streaks in strategic places. Especially underneath. It's like a little surprise whenever I pull my hair up -- a shock of red. And I love that.

Secondly, I got a tattoo. After 7 years of deciding what I wanted, I've finally gotten one. I almost backed out as I drove there with my brother. As we parked the cars (we drove separately), I felt my hands shaking. Walking inside, I could hear the buzz of the tattoo needle and I felt my stomach leap. The artists were how I expected them to look - covered in ink with a hint of a stand-up comic and biker who may or may not kick your ass after he keys your car. I signed the papers and felt my hands going numb. I gave them the picture and looked at how big I wanted it. They were all ridiculously nice. As I walked behind the small gate they had, I froze. The artist who'd be doing mine joked around, "I could throw the ink at you, hope it lands in some kind of pattern." I laughed nervously as I made my way past the empty leather chairs and towards his.

I felt awkward, sitting in the chair with most of my shirt up. Suddenly, I was more self-conscious over the fact that they'd seen what color bra I was wearing that day (red and white polka dots, just so you know). He explained to me what he was going to do, how to sit, how to hold my shirt, and told me to keep breathing. The buzzing of the needle started and I could feel the metal in my skin.

I finally understand what people say when they say that the pain's addicting. It didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, especially considering the location (at the back of the neck, below the shirt line). He asked me if I was doing all right and when I explained that I was, he shouted to my brother, who was sitting on the bench on the other side of the counter, "I don't know, bro, she's tough. She could kick your ass, I think." I said that I'm too short to kick his ass. He replied, "Just go for the nuts!... Sorry, man." This was, of course, after he'd called my brother my "man," assuming that we were dating. When I quickly quipped back with, "He's my brother!" he laughed and said, "Wow, you didn't even hesitate. You had that one ready."

So, I'm saying goodbye.

I'm saying goodbye to who I was. I'm saying goodbye to the girl who cried herself to sleep because she didn't know where she belonged. I'm saying goodbye to the girl who stared at herself in the mirror, wishing she knew which parent she looked like. I'm saying goodbye to the girl who wished for sleep because it didn't hurt as much as being awake. I'm saying goodbye to the girl who contemplated taking her life by her own hand because she was tired of being brave. I'm saying goodbye to the girl who was always looking at her life for what it didn't have, rather than loving what she did.

I'm saying goodbye to that girl, and I'm saying hello to who I am and who I will become.

- May (you know when it's time to leave it all behind).

Reconciling Want and Need

So, it seems I'm constantly inspired by J. Mraz's blogs. Which is fine -- he's become a sort of muse for me, constantly opening my mind and making me see things from a different angle. Which is precisely what I need. I think I need a miniature Mraz in my pocket at all times, giving me sage advice and helping me to remember the karma. Think they manufacture those?

Anyway, after his recent post, I got to thinking about "want" versus "need."

At my job, we get paid on the 3rd and the 18th of every month. If any of those days fall on a weekend, you get paid the Friday before. Earlier in the month, as the 3rd came closer, I could feel the excitement. I'd only gotten one paycheck this summer and I was already planning all of the items for purchase that this second paycheck would be going to.

Thursday came. Since the 3rd was technically a holiday (the school was closed for the day), the checks came the day before. I anxiously awaited the envelope as my boss slipped them into everyone's respective mail cubbies. She usually skips mine to hand it to me in person, since I'm sitting right there. As she neared my desk, I remember literally holding my breath with excitement. She had a confused look on her face.

"They didn't send your check over. I'm going to give them a call to see why." I thought to myself, 'Minor setback, but maybe they just forgot because I'm technically temporary staff and they sent over everyone's who's a regular employee. No problem.' About half an hour later, she called me from her office and said that it turned out she'd not handed in my time sheets before the deadline. A complete accident, and one that was not her fault (she'd taken Friday and the following Monday off to spend time with her son who lives in a residential facility upstate). She hadn't realized that they were SO strict with the cut-off date and apologized again.

I told her it was no big deal, and really, it wasn't.

For a little while.

On the eve of the third pay day of the summer, with a measly $5 in my bank account, I can't help but think. I've had to seriously cut down on my frivolous spending since then since funds were all-around limited. I avoided places like the mall, since I knew my will power is kind of pathetic when it comes to certain things (read: clothes, sunglasses, accessories).

But, what I realized was that I didn't need to go to Starbucks all the time; I could just as easily brew a cup of tea or coffee at home, for less. I didn't need new clothes while I still had old ones to wear. I didn't need a fourth pair of sunglasses. All of these things that I kept thinking I needed, I really didn't. Maybe I wanted them, but I certainly didn't need them.

I had and have all of the things I need. Everything else is just superfluous.

That's not to say that I haven't already planned to what to buy with tomorrow's pay check, but all of those things have purpose -- and they're all things I've made sure I really want. I don't know if I need them quite yet, but I know that they're things that I've taken time to think about, ponder over, really decide upon:

List
- My tattoo, which will most likely happen on Saturday.
- Haircut and highlights, which I've never gotten before.
- O.N.E. Coconut Water.
- Vitamineral Green.
- More items for my mom's "meditation" room to help with the Feng Shui.
- Printing out more photos from Europe.
- Buying Mason Jars for said photos (it's a fun craft. Google it!)

The tattoo and haircut are in celebration of this new life I'm living. I feel renewed, I feel like I've woken up from a long sleep that's taken 22 years to come out of. I've undergone a positive, karmic transformation -- so now, it's time to restore and reawaken the external parts of me so that they match the internal parts.

So, I pose these questions to you -- what is it that you want? What is it that you need? Are they the same? Are they different? Will those things improve your life in the long-run? Are they temporary fixes to feelings of sadness, insecurity, or insignificance? Where would that energy be better spent in your life? Will they improve the lives of those around you? At whose expense have those things been made or created?

Can you tell the difference?

- May (you have the courage to re-examine everything).

Reflection

Just a short story I felt like sharing, taken from my Zen Book by Daniel Levin.

Two dogs walk into a room.

One comes out quivering, barking in fear
the whole time, while the other comes out
wagging his tail, with a seemingly big smile
across his face. a man seeing this walks into
the room to discover that it's full of mirrors.
That is the way of this life.

What we see is who we are.

Green With Envy. But At Least You're Healthy!

Following, as usual, J. Mraz's blogpost, I just thought I'd share his suggestions.

He talks about Vitamineral Green, from Healthforce Nutritional. He says that it gives him a boost of energy and clarity of mind for the entire day - from only having it for breakfast! I plan on buying some since my usual fruit and yogurt doesn't really cut it. I'm always drained by 12 (I eat it around 9, 9:30) and starving by the time lunch rolls around at 1. So, I plan on getting some of this because I can use that all-day energy boost. And if it's au natural and healthy, all the better!

Mraz says that he puts it in his O.N.E. coconut water, which, holy crap - sounds DELICIOUS. I plan on ordering me some of that, in addition to Acai water.

Just thought I'd share the knowledge that Mraz so generously shares with all his readers. Once I order/get this stuff, I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.

- May (you cleanse your spirit of the gunk!).

MSG & Shame, Part 2

I just thought of something else.

People, generally those who aren't Asian, will always work a variation of the following into conversation with me:

"Hey, you know, I have a cousin who's Asian. Japanese, or something, I think."

That's great. Really. I'm glad your family is diverse and you're not only a bunch of melatonin-challenged folks (no offense, white people - you know I love you). But what do you want me to do with this newly found (yet undesired) piece of information? Am I supposed to throw chopsticks into the air into a celebratory moment, to commemorate the fact that you know another Asian person? Or do you expect me to say,

"Oh, what's his/her name? I probably know them." Because we all know each other, just like I know everyone in the state of New York.

Some of my favorite variations of this conversation faux pas (I have really had these said to me):
- "My niece wants to set me up with a Japanese woman .. I don't know if I'm ready, though." (After talking about his divorce)
- "My nephew studied in Japan - he really liked it. Japan's kind of close to Korea, isn't it?"
- "My wife's Japanese." (with absolutely nothing to segway into this statement)
- "I have a cousin who's South Korean. Maybe you know her?"

Please.

Stop.

For the love of God, just stop. I appreciate the attempt at making a connection, but .. what about art? Music? The Beatles? Tattoos? Anything - I really do have many other facets that have nothing to do with slanty eyes and a penchant for sticky rice.

- May (you look beyond the surface).

Something Smells Like MSG and Shame

Let me just clear the air with answers to popular questions I receive from people I encounter on a day-to-day basis.

1. No, I'm not Filipino/Chinese/Hawaiian/other remotely Asian race. I'm Korean.
2. I'm not a Communist. I was born in South Korea. The good one.
3. No, I don't speak any Korean. And if you keep trying to talk to me in it, I'm going to throw Kimchi in your face.
4. I don't speak it because my parents don't speak it. Because they're not Korean. They're Italian.
5. I was adopted.
6. That means that I was given away by my birth parents at a young age and taken in by another family.
7. I was seven months.
8. No, I don't know anything about my birth mother/father, nor do I remember anything about coming here. I was seven months old.
9. I know that I don't look anything like the rest of my family, thanks.
10. I can do manicures and pedicures only on myself. I do not want to touch your ugly ass feet.
11. I can't work at a laundromat, either.
12. Yes, thank you, I like my hair, too. Yes, it's my natural color. I don't color it to look black.
13. I don't know how I know to use chopsticks. I picked them up when I was little and instinctively knew how to use them. (No joke).
14. Yes, my body cannot properly break down alcohol, resulting in a bright red face and skin that's scorching to the touch. I know that I'm a lightweight. Give me another shot.

Also, I'd like to ask the class why people generally feel it's all right to ask any of these questions. I will literally get most of these throughout a conversation with strangers, especially at the nail salon. Oh, those Korean ladies go at it when they find out that I'm Korean, too. And then they get quiet and shameful when they find out I'm adopted (cultural thing). But really.

You wouldn't believe how many times I've gotten the, "That's your mom? You don't look alike!" reaction. I don't mind answering questions, I don't, but .. you know. There's a way to go about them without sounding like an ignorant fool.

While we're on the topic, though, you hear about how Asian people name their kids? They throw pots and pans down the stairs: ping, pong, pang!

- May (you remember that sometimes, silence is golden).

The 10 Spot

Inspired by J. Mraz's most recent blog post, I've decided to make a list of ten things I'm grateful for today. This is in addition to the small paragraph I've already written in my gratitude journal, but hey .. you can never have enough happiness or enough positive karma. I'm going to keep this going.

1. Sunshine. Sounds simplistic, but after somewhere around a month of constant gray, rain, and storms, I'm thankful for the radiant rays for however long I can soak them up. I am, of course, ignoring the fact that I'm stuck in an office for 8 hours a day.

2. Blue skies. See above. I'd almost forgotten how absolutely stunning the color is.

3. Having a job. Though I sometimes complain about being stuck in an office chair all day, sitting behind a desk, finding things to do online, I'm thankful to have this job. In an economic world where so many people are struggling to keep things afloat, I feel ridiculously unworthy of having a job that pays well and also has a window for me to gaze longingly outside at the sunshine. I also got to put up some pictures around my workspace. And a miniature Buddha!

4. The ability to read, walk, see, hear, smell, touch, breathe, eat, experience life. Kind of a long one, but I always forget how lucky I am to be able to do .. anything. I take advantage of my able body, all five of my senses that are still in good working order, the ability to breathe without a machine, everything. Such small things that really mean so much.

5. Discovering a new state of consciousness. In Yoga, there are four states (awake, sleeping, dreaming, and transcendental). Although awake is technically the furthest from being enlightened, I look at it as a positive. I feel as though I've been in the sleeping state for my entire life - lethargic, unmoved by beauty, callous, indifferent to the world and to myself. I've finally woken up and have been able to look at things through different eyes. I feel like I'm awake, truly awake, for the first time in my life. And now, it's time for me to start dreaming about the future and all of the wonderful, amazing things to come.

6. Finally finding peace and understanding with the universe. I don't know if this needs any explanation.

7. My new-found ability to not question the universe when things happen. Also inspired by J. Mraz, I'm taking a step back from the mortal need for control over the universe around me. I'm letting things happen the way they happen, and not questioning why. If someone does something nice for me, I'm not going to dig for reasons, or wonder if it was for their own gain rather than mine. I'm going to smile and thank them and take that peace with me and spread it to someone else. If something bad happens, I'm going to understand that the Universe has a reason for it. As the Dalai Lama says (who just celebrated his 74th birthday!), "I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe."

8. Having decided on a tattoo design and location. I've wanted a tattoo for seven years. SEVEN! I used to want the Gemini symbol, since I figured it wouldn't be changing any time soon. Then I wanted something to do with London, commemorating the fact that I found where my heart's always been and always wanted to be. That may be coming later, once I figure that design out, but I have never been more sure of a design and a location before in my life. I'm going to be getting the Om (Aum) symbol at the base of my neck, towards the middle of my back. The reason? The Vishuddha chakra, symbolizing creativity, turning negative situations into positives and lessons to be learned, and increasing communication. Also, for the deity who resides in the Vishuddha Chakra, Panchavaktra Shiva. He has five heads for each of the senses and in one of his hands, he's holding a drum that's perpetually beating, symbolizing the Om (Aum) sound -- balance between the world, its creatures, and people. Get it? It's all connected. And as with #7, I'm not questioning why it all suddenly made sense - I'm just accepting it and revelling in the fact that I finally understand.

9. Being alive! I end every entry in my gratitude journal with this. I take it from a quote from Buddha: "Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful."

10. Warmer weather. It means I can wear flowy skirts and dresses that always, always put me in happier moods! Not to mention that Serotonin! :D

I'd love to see what lists you come up with! Post them!



- May (you remember to be thankful for every breath).

Improved.

111 words

Speed test

- May (you always remember to try and try again).

Apparently, You Really CAN'T Stop the Beat.

Also posted in Pen & Paper Addicts

I can't stop writing. It feels amazing to be able to press a pen to a piece of paper and have words flow out, without hesitation or strain, the way they used to years ago. Except that I hope the words and syntax have improved since I was 12.

The poem make up is more scattered. Lines are indented, halves of words are moved about, and only 6 lines are actually left-aligned. However, blogspot doesn't keep the spaces I put in, so you're just going to have to use your imagination. :)

-------

[070509]
there are momentous moments
in which no explanation can be offered(nor
would you really want one)and sometimes
you can never ask the "right questions"(if it

gets you an answer, can i really be wrong?), no
matter how ha
rd you try. and believe you me,

i've tried.

it's in these momentous moments that
the silence(which has been bronzified
like a pair of baby booties your great

grand
mother once crocheted for the new breath
of life
she was so scared to lose, and, as a result,
couldn't control her nervous twitch and
before anyone could blink, she'd
created 1,002 delicately woven booties,
much like the small wriggling form in
the rocking bassinet --
she had been a

miracle, you see)suddenly
takes on a golden hue and
somehow,

you finally seem to
get it.

the first draft of the declaration of independence.

Also posted in Pen & Paper Addicts.

freedom is not just about
flipping off the monarchy
and telling them that they
can take their crowns and
eat them for all you
care. it's about letting
go of everything that's
haunted you, forever on your
back and forever on your
heart. it's flipping off
all of the negativity other
people try to spread,
like some rampant case of
VD, and keeping your
proverbial legs closed.

it's learning to forgive
the negativity and under-
standing that it never
really had a say in where
it was going but was
strung along like some
derranged pinocchio with
no hopes of ever becoming
a real boy (it was never
encouraged as a child). it's
finally realizing that, damn
it, you're worth the
sun and the breeze to
cool those beads of sweat
upon your salty flesh
and the whispering of those
gossiping trees (i swear they're
worse than most beauticians) and

the joy of waking up
another morning and
realizing that you have
the chance to do something
extraordinary. because
that's what you are; forget
what you've learned in those
wretched, glossy spreads
and repeat after me: i
am an extraordinary
being. i want you to take
2 doses each and every morning
and, you know what, it's
PRN (as needed, for those
of you who may not know),
because this life is one of those
drugs that can turn you
into some kind of addict,

with your tongue
hanging out and your
forearms bruised, always
begging for more.



- May (you discover your passion).

Independence

The 4th of July's coming up on Saturday, aka America's Independence Day. While I enjoy waving around a sparkler like an idiot as much as the next idiot, and also enjoy BBQ's and nursing a cold one while balancing a paper plate with a hamburger and macaroni salad on my leg, it's an odd year for a celebration of independence, don't you think?

Most of the world isn't really independent. Most of us aren't independent. So here are some things that I hope you think about on Saturday. And every day following.

What (Insert Your Name Here) Needs To Be Independent From
- The Fear of Failing. I can't use failure as an excuse anymore. As they say, there are no mistakes in life, only lessons to be learned.
- Reservation. If I want to dance when the dance floor is empty, may I have the strength to will my legs and body to move.
- The Fear of Forgetting. The moments that aren't always remembered are sometimes the ones that mean the most to us. I will make it a point to have more of these moments until my heart is over-flowing.
- Baggage. Everyone's struggled to get to where s/he is in life. Everyone has been carrying heavy suitcases and maybe even a backpack (or rucksack, for you overseas). May I free myself from the extra weight and not be afraid to let go.
- The Future. No matter what I do, I can't control the future. I can only control the now. My present actions may influence my future, but until time-travelling is invented, I'm stuck in the here and now. I'd better get used to it and take advantage before the present turns into the past.
- Time. Everyone grows older. In a world where there's so much emphasis put on youth and beauty, we all forget what a gift it is to be able to say that we've lived. My mom refuses to dye her graying hair because she says that it shows that she's experienced things, good and bad, and shows that she's lived her life. I won't belittle the chance to grow older, to grow wiser, and to pass my wisdom onto those behind me.
- Other People. Many of them will build me up and support me (cue Josh Groban's "You Lift Me Up." I'll leave you to your thoughts for a moment while you absorb that. ... Okay, no. I'm done). But many of them will try to cut me down. Many of them will stampede upon me and my aspirations. Many of them will maliciously harm me and will be unapologetic. May I look at them for the pain they have inside of their own hearts - may I inhale their suffering, and exhale my peace to them.
- And most importantly, myself. I will not let myself stand in the way of anything that I want to accomplish, of my success, of my life. Instead, I will take myself along for the ride, hoping that at the end of it all, I can look back and say that it was worth it.



Happy 4th, everyone.

- May (you find your freedom).

No Need to Complicate

I'm sure that most people are sick of hearing "I'm Yours" on the radio. I'm sure that people switch off whenever the beginning chords start. I'm sure people think it's played out and 'what's the big deal?' and it was good the first time around, not the 50239487th.

I don't care.

I will never get enough of this song.

I've been a Mraz fan since I heard "The Remedy." It steadily grew with songs like "Geek in the Pink" and "Wordplay." But his most recent album, "We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things." is my favorite, by far. And a lot of loyalists of Mr. Mraz detest the fans who were suddenly all about the hat-loving singer once they heard the upbeat, summer-appropriate notes of "I'm Yours." Personally, I'm not one of those people.

I've always respected Mraz, not only for his blatant honesty in his lyrics, but the sheer poetry of his words. He's one of the few talented song-writers still out there. Where most people are fulfilling the cookie-cutter mold of "Wahhhh life suuuucks .. Here's my soooong about ittttt. Wahhhh .." he takes the idea of heartbreak and turns it into something beautifully tragic. It's not a complaint about losing a loved one, losing a relationship, but rather an observation as someone outside of his own life, while still devastatingly involved.

With WSWDWST, though, it dove even deeper into the personal realm. With songs like "Love For A Child," we get to listen to his feelings about growing up in a broken home, riddled with divorce, celebrating separate holidays, and his struggle with reconciling it all. The first time I heard the song, I cried. I couldn't even make that up. The sad twangs of the guitar got to me initially, and then when the line, "They never checked to see my grades, what a fool I'd be to start complaining now" came out, tears flowed without hesitation. I'm not a child of divorce, but the family I once saw as forever together has been anything but - but don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade my family situation for anything. I love every single person in my family more than I can say. I respect all of them for who they are and what they bring. But there's something deeply personal in Mraz's lyrics that I think everyone can relate to, in some way or another.

But the point of this post wasn't to give a way-too-late album review of WSWDWST. It was to talk about "I'm Yours." Where people switch off the radio, I turn the volume dial higher. I hear it just about every morning on my way to work, and if I don't naturally hear it on the radio, I put it on my iPod and listen to it. As soon as I hear that 5/7 slide, followed by the off-beat strumming, I smile. The sun's a little brighter. The day's already off to a great start.

It's one of those songs that you sing along to without even listening to it. But when you stop and actually hear the lyrics, you realize how beautiful the song really is. The words stay in time with its upbeat, reggae-like swagger. My favorite part is the last verse, though, after the short interlude.

I've been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror,
And bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer.
But my breath fogged up the glass,
So I drew a new face and I laughed.
I guess what I be saying is there ain't no better reason
To rid yourself of vanity and just go with the seasons.
It's what we aim to do;
Our name is our virtue.

It sums up everything. Don't take yourself too seriously. Go with the flow. Enjoy life without getting caught up in the ridiculous standards demanded by society. Be yourself. Laugh at yourself more often. Who you are is a gift to the world; don't waste it.

If you haven't already, go check out Mraz's blog. Every time you finish reading a post, you'll feel inspired to leave this world a better place than how you found it. One of my favorites is the post about the manicure set. The universe really is a wonderful thing.

- May (you make the life you lead YOURS).

PS. - After listening to something mellow, like "A Beautiful Mess" or "Love For A Child," listen to something insanely amazing, like "The Dynamo of Volition," which was written entirely around the one line (it was a challenge from someone Mraz works with/knows): "Driving off on a blind man's bike." The man's the miracle worker of music and lyrics.

Gay Pride in New York!

The subject line shouldn't be startling. If anything, it shouldn't even phase you. New York's been long known as a center for Gay Pride, and yesterday was no different! Yesterday was the annual Gay Pride Parade that extends down 5th Avenue down towards the West Village. It also marked the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

Here's a brief history lesson in case you aren't sure what Stonewall was. In 1969, people were feeling the love -- it was a decade of revolution, of free love, of expression, of drugs, of love beads, of sit-ins and getting tear gassed, of protests and demonstrations. In the Village, there was a place called the Stonewall Inn, known for being gay-friendly in a time when everything but homosexuality seemed to be all right. Police raids were more or less routine, but on June 28th, 1969, the gay and lesbian community fought back against the police raids. The following year, the Gay Pride Parade began in New York & Los Angeles to commemorate this act of justified rebellion. If you want to read the whole spiel, you can read all about it here.

So, yesterday was the 39th Gay Pride Parade in New York, and it gets more and more fabulouuuuus! every single year! One of my favorite things about this year is that Governor David Patterson marched in it -- he's already said that if the bill passes the Senate, he's going to sign it.

I wanted to head to the Parade myself, but having a dentist appointment at 8 AM, after which I couldn't feel the right side of my face, I came back home and fell asleep until the afternoon. Then made myself lunch and hung around until I went over to a friend's house and subsequently went on our usual trip to Starbucks. So. You know. I didn't actually get to the Parade, but my gay-loving side was there in spirit! That's what counts, right? The gay spirit? Or something?

Anyway .. have some pictures and TRY to tell me they're not fabulous!


Drag queens! I'm still on my mission to become BFFs with one. Any takers?


Rainbow balloons outside St. Patrick's


Work it, honey, work it!


Governor David Patterson! <3 He's so adorable!


I imagine them skipping through a meadow of daisies .. FABULOUS.

Pictures taken from here (Link to the Washington Post).

- May (you, at the end of the day, remember the love).

Kablam.

106 words

Typing Test

- May (you always challenge yourself).

Just Beat It! No, Not THAT, You Freak.

Look.

Let's be frank here, okay? (I suddenly have the urge to say, "And don't call me Shirley.") Michael Jackson was weird. As some comedian said, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Only in America can a poor black guy turn into a rich white guy.' The guy obviously had issues. More issues than all the psychologists/psychiatrists/counselors could ever attempt to talk about. He grew up with an abusive father (come on, admit it - you've seen that Michael Jackson movie on VH1, more than once. Don't lie. I'm onto you). If I'm remembering correctly, his father used to talk about his nose and how wide, how "black" it was. It was something he used to harp on constantly as MJ was growing up, hence his obsession with making it small, petite, and virtually non-existent.

The guy was accused of being a pedophile. In case you have selective amnesia, though, the charges were dropped because the stories of the kid and his family were inconsistent. There was even a Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episode paralleling the story ('not based on actual events' my ass, Dick Wolf) where Shirley from Laverne & Shirley was actually poisoning her granddaughter and making her think she had cancer. They then fabricated a story about a famous pop singer who'd had charges of molestation/improper relations with children before, but it all ended up being a plot to get money from him.

So. I mean. I don't know. I'm not saying that MJ didn't do it (he fully admitted letting kids sleep in his bed), but if Dick Wolf, Elliot Stabler, and Olivia Benson are insinuating that people are money-hungry bastards who poison their grandkids to make a more convincing story, then .. you know. It makes you pause and think. Because Benson and Stabler don't lie. They just don't do it. Except when Benson's trying to protect her long-lost brother ..

Anyway, the point is - the guy had his issues. I think people really are money-hungry bastards who'll do just about anything to exploit someone else (is it that far-fetched? Think about the lawsuit-happy culture we all live in right now) .. I mean, it's like that person who sued McDonald's after she spilled her hot coffee in her lap and burned herself.

And won.

That's sick. You're an idiot who ordered hot coffee and were too stupid to put it in a cup holder and instead squeezed the cup between your thighs and oops! Surprise! Hot coffee lap. Deal with your own stupidity and own up to your mistakes.

All of that aside, MJ revolutionized music. He changed it forever.

I was adopted in 1988. MJ was at the early peak of his solo career. Thriller had come out in 1982 (it's the world's best-selling record, in case you weren't aware) and Bad had just come out the year before. My brother's cabbage patch doll was named Michael. My sister's doll was named Billie Jean (these names were given by my brother and sister, respectively). If you watch my arrival video, you can see Michael Jackson's "Bad" video on the TV behind me as I bounce around in my wheeling-chair-with-tray-attached thing, which I called my Boinga Boinga. Don't ask questions. Just keep reading.

The "Thriller" video still scares the shit out of me if I watch it by myself and at night. Because of that video, I sprint past cemeteries if I happen to be walking past one at night. The opening beats of the song immediately pop into my head, in addition to Vincent Price's creepy-as-hell voice over, as I imagine decomposing hands and limbs coming forth from the depths of the crypts and graves and mausoleums. But then I think to myself, "Even if that did happen, we just have to do a synchronized dance sequence with the werewolf hand march and we'll all be okay. They'll think I'm one of them and then I'll turn around as I leave with yellow eyes and fangs. Success!"

Everyone, I don't care who you are, has tried to Moonwalk. And probably fallen over/tripped/backed up into a wall/kicked a small child. Everyone, secretly or not, dances around to Billie Jean, The Way You Make Me Feel, Bad, Beat It, and/or Thriller. Everyone's at least tried to lean the Thriller dance in its entirety. And who didn't cry at the end of Free Willy when "Will You Be There" came on? Admit it! You bawled like a baby. As did everyone else in the theatre. GO FREE WILLY, GO!

Ahem.

His personal life aside, MJ was a staple in the music world. I grew up listening to him, even if it was after he'd made it big. I grew up watching his videos. Wanting to imitate his dance moves, only to realize that I couldn't ever Moonwalk the way he did. The man may have been on the creepy side of life, but my Social Work education has made me look at him for who he really was, despite public persona: the result of an abusive, abusive father, an unhealthy family system, and a child who was stripped of his chance of being a child in order to be a performer.

To quote Micky J himself, "It don't matter if you're black or white." His death is a loss for everyone.

Here's a link to one of my favorite MJ videos, "Black or White."

- May (you remember to listen to the music).

Nighttime Thoughts

Also posted in Pen & Paper Addicts

Fondness rode the swings over Tivoli and I was elated
Sincerity slipped another sunrise into watery eyes
Train stations spit citizens back onto the streets
And I am still not asleep
- J. Mraz, blog entry on 06/24.

i will always be this way.
i will always feel my skin tingle
and my lips curl
and my tongue dance
and my eyes glisten
as soon as the sun hides its in-need-of-Rogaine head
and i am surrounded by the cloak of the absence of light.

my body may protest and, indeed,
it often does.
fibrous muscles ache
and remind me of the casualties of the day:
a wrong twist in the swirling, rolling chair-turned-amusement-ride;
a purpled section of flesh after violent contact
with a desk or table that seemingly appeared out of nowhere;
7 hours of being resigned to the same
position, upright with knees at right angles.

by the time this hemisphere of the world
has long shut its eyes
and kissed its beloved children good night
and turned its shadowed back upon the growing light
that's slowly trickling over its shoulder,
i have just awoken from my daytime slumber.
my adventures have only just begun.
thoughts leap from my cluttered cranium,
wishing to explore the world they've heard so much about.

but i resign myself to becoming a follower
of trends,
though my individuality is none too happy with my
nightly battle and resulting decision.

slowly, i slide underneath my cotton and polyester cape
that's a few sizes too big for my small frame,
skin tingling,
lips curling,
tongue dancing,
eyes glistening,
lullabied by the melodies of the slumbering world.

- May (you wake up with life anew).

Owl City, Owl Mania

You know those moments when you hear a song, by chance, and for some reason, you can never scrape it off of the linoleum of your cranial cavity? You're not really sure how it got there, why it's there, or why it's made its habitat on your brain-floor, but what you know is that .. you don't mind. You like having more company in your already cluttered space. You decide that it should stay there, splat on the ground, next to other random bits of information, like "your favorite yoga pose is the Sage Pose, followed by anything that stretches your back" which looks like a miniature Buddha figurine that's gotten super-glued to the floor, or "you need to feed your cat before he gets angry and starts gnawing at your ankles," which looks like a can of cat food with a bright, red exclamation point above it. Or a fang stuck in the cover.

.. Wow, that was a long analogy for something simple. Sorry, folks. I think I'm getting cabin fever, being locked in this office from 9 - 5 every day. I'm also getting creepy vibes from whatever still inhabits this place (it used to be a psychiatric hospital) .. and they are not very friendly. You know that feeling of being unwanted? Of being scrutinized from some invisible pair of eyes? Of being sneered at behind your back? Yeah, I get that feeling here. And it's not because of the people I work with - they're awesome. They're friendly and I can't remember most of their names. It's something bigger, something .. stranger.

But I digress.

The point of this post was to talk about songs that get stuck in your head. As of late, it's been all of Owl City's songs. I found them through the miracle that is Pandora, and I've been addicted ever since. My favorites include, "Fuzzy Blue Lights," "I'll Meet You There," "The Saltwater Room," and "Captains and Cruise Ships."

If you want they according to mood:
Mellow/Sad: Fuzzy Blue Lights, The Saltwater Room
Upbeat/Kind of Reminds You Of Another Song From Someone: I'll Meet You There, Captains and Cruise Ships

Go here and listen to them. The four songs are scattered about my blip station, but seriously. Have a listen. Then buy their stuff on iTunes. You won't regret it, I promise.

- May (you live a life worthy of a soundtrack)

Meow Meow Purr Purr

Let me just say, for the record, I love my cat.

No, scratch that.

I love my cats. And my dog, the poor old man.

You know those weird people who go on and on and on about their pets? About how intuitive they are or how smart they are or how they 'have a sixth sense about ____!' or some other random tidbit of information? I sometimes fall into that category, but more or less, I laugh at my pets. Like they were a person.

For instance, my one cat, Teddy, is obese. Despite all attempts at helping him shed those kitty pounds, nothing seems to work. We've put him on Indoor Cat diets, put him food for non-active, yet still frisky, felines. Still, when he jumps from the back of the couch to the floor, he walks three steps and then realizes how tired he is and how much work he put into moving, and lays back down, belly sprawling onto the floor.

I couldn't even make this up.

Besides his weight problems (he's "big boned" and has a "thyroid condition"), he's missing one of his fangs. I think it's the left one. I remember finding a small tooth on the ground, but thought that maybe cats were like people - they lost their kitten teeth to make way for the cat teeth.

I was wrong.

There was never another tooth behind it to replace the one that I'd found tangled in the fibers of the carpet. He lost a tooth. I'm not sure how, but he lost one. But! His lack of left-fang provides me with endless entertainment. How? His lip gets stuck and so it looks like he's sneering. Or smelling a particularly pungent pile of crap. Or like an old guy whose mouth is a tad dry and didn't remember his dentures.

Case in point:



He looks remotely like Elvis. Something about his whiskers reminds me of the Jamie Hyneman walrus:



(Still cracks me up, by the way).

What was the point of this post? Oh, right .. those weird people who go on and on about their pets ..

Did I ever tell you about the time my blind, diabetic dog tried to hump my other cat? And she walked away? And he kept humping because he's blind?

- May (you find the humor in the small things)

Musings of a Bored Assistant

I've worked just about 3 full weeks, with the European interruption in between. I've gotten one pay check (score!). I've sent out about 500 emails, no exaggerations. I get to listen to Pandora all day, sing (quietly) along to songs I already know, and even do some chair-restricted dancing to "Shake It" from MetroStation.

All this aside, my mind still wanders.

And what does it wander to? Why, Europe, of course.

It was a week yesterday since I've returned to the US. A week since we all enjoyed a four-course meal consisting of salad (delicious), farfalle carbonara, a gigantic (in my case) slab of turkey with rosemary roasted potatoes, and tiramisu. A week since I bid farewell to the friends I'd made, separated by the different queues for the differing airlines in L. Da Vinci Airport. A week since I was caught amidst the Roman heat, wishing that I could take a dunk in the Fontana di Trevi or the fountain at La Piazza di Spagna. A week since I said goodbye to some of the best 16 days I've ever had.

And I'm trying not to be Debbie Downer/Negative Nancy about the whole thing. It's proving to be harder than I expected. But then again, I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised considering the mood I found myself in after leaving London two years ago. It took a good year and a half to fully recover from 3 weeks of living there. God knows how long it will take for me to recover from this trip.

But. Okay. No more thinking along those lines. No more being upset about it.

Right. I need to get back into yoga. I haven't done it since I've gotten back, and my soul's feeling the repercussions. I did buy "The Zen Book," by Daniel Levin, though. I plan on reading through it whenever I feel the need for some positive inspiration. I also bought "Wreck This Journal," and plan to write in it as often as I possibly can. There's something missing in this online blog world - it's like the art of letter writing, just about extinct. I refuse to give it up. I'm going to keep writing letters and writing in journals! They'll never be obsolete or outdated.

Anyway .. back to the database and sending 500 more emails.

Is it the weekend yet?

- May (you find your inspiration).

Randoms.

Because boredom happens.


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Still on that European High

I just got back from Europe yesterday. I'm still struggling with the fact that my vacation is over, after months of planning and arranging details. But I'm keeping up with my life philosophy: rather than being sad about it being over, I'm revelling in the happiness that it happened at all. I got to see things so many people have never seen. I've experienced things no one else has experienced. I've eaten some of the most delicious Gelati on a hot, Roman day while walking towards the Trevi Fontana and La Piazza di Spagna. I've had authentic Italian pasta and pizza, and will NEVER forget how amazing it tasted and the way the flavors swirled on my tongue. I've walked in the same steps of an ancient people who were buried under layers of ash and pumice from Mount Vesuvius. I've walked their streets, been in their houses, seen their last moments the way they saw them. I've walked the same crosswalk that the Beatles walked. I've signed my name to the wall outside Abbey Road Studios. I've seen the Cliffs of Moher and learned about Faery Circles.

For the past 16 days, I've really, really lived.

And I've come back to some good horoscopes and guiding words from Rob Brezsny. One particular clip of his horoscope really struck me for some reason:

"A familiar stranger will hand you a Cracker Jack toy and whisper, 'Are we never going to see each other again? Or will we get married tomorrow?'"

I love the open-ended route that quote can take. We don't know what will happen. With the familiar stranger, will we marry tomorrow? Will we never see each other again? Will we speak again and reminisce about long-lost, vague times? Will we lead our separate lives with never a thought of one another?

I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever talk to the friends I made on the European trip ever again. I don't know if Anthony and Trisha will really journey down to Long Island to visit. I don't know if I'll remember people's names a year from now. I don't know if I'll see them ever again.

But for the 16 days they were in my life, I must say thank you -- you made it some of the most memorable that I've had in my 22 years. It doesn't matter if we get married tomorrow or never see each other again; we were in each other's lives, we shared laughs and stories and sights, and that's what I will take with me on this ridiculous journey called life. Thank you for adding to my story and for doing so willingly and so generously.

- May (you experience the world).

Graduation from college: best thing ever.

I don't know what happened.

I really don't.

I was depressed over graduating not too long ago. I was depressed over leaving my friends, over leaving the campus I'd come to call home for four years, over moving on to the next chapter of my life. I cried most of the ride home back to New York. I cried when I got home that night, listening to sad music (cue the "Here's To The Nights" and "Time Of Your Life" -- I even broke out "Friends Forever" from the 2001-ish era).

And now?

Now, I feel like I could conquer the world. I feel like nothing could ever get me down ever again. And, this is probably TMI, but I'm even PMSing and I'm still feeling awesome.

I don't know what changed. Something inside of me just clicked. I woke up and I realized that spending my life being upset, being regretful, being constantly stuck in the vortex of the past wasn't going to do me any good. It's cliche, but I started living in the present. And I've never been able to do it before. Not until now.

I've adopted new life philosophies. Primarily, the idea that this life is mine. No one else has it. No one else is priviledged enough to have it. No one else would make the same decisions that I've made and will make. And because this life is mine, and only mine, it's unique. It's worth exploring, celebrating, feeling, experiencing, and above all, living.

I could harp on the past 'til I died. I could spend my entire life looking back, rather than looking at the world around me. I could talk about how I wish I knew my birth mother for years. Eons. I could talk about how I felt a loss of identity because I didn't and don't know her. I could. But I've decided not to.

I've decided to take charge of my life because you know what? No one else is going to do it for me. No one else can. It's up to me to start living the right way.

So. I'm choosing life. I'm choosing positive things. I'm choosing friends. I'm choosing family. I'm choosing letting go when I have to let go. I'm choosing healthy food options. I'm choosing doing yoga. I'm choosing meditation. I'm choosing burning incense and chilling out. I'm choosing to be excited over the unknowns of life. I'm choosing positive energies, both giving and receiving. I'm choosing karma and improving this shithole of a world.

I'm choosing to live.

And I have never, ever felt more at peace with myself, the world, and the universe.

- May (you find your reason for life).

Prop 8. No, Really. Why?

Well.

Again.

California has proven itself to be less progressive than Iowa. People, are you listening? Iowa and Maine are MORE progressive than California. California, land of surfers, sun, beach, sand, SAN FRANSISCO (rivaled only by Provincetown, Massachusetts and the entirety of the Village, New York City), and happy cows (from which comes good cheese) is less progressive than Iowa, which has nothing really notable in it, and Maine, land of lobster and snow. Did I mention that Iowa and Maine are stereotypically full of backwards people?

Don't get your long johns in a twist -- I said stereotypically.

Somehow, the majority managed to overturn these people:



I mean, look at them! Raising their fists and rainbow flags to fight injustice! There's even a large man wearing a pink shirt, for Pete's sake. Also, side note, who is Pete? And why are we always excusing ourselves on his behalf?

Anyway, I just don't get it. I don't think I'll ever get it. Love is love is love.

But if you need some convincing as to why you should vote NO on Prop 8, if it ever comes around again (which it probably will), might I offer:

The National Organization For Marriage's "The Gathering Storm" video. It's a repost, but you know what, it's SO ridiculous that it deserves to be posted twice. Because listening to it once is just enough to melt your brain. The second time around, the rest of your explodes.



Jason Mraz's comical picture to show his lack of support for Prop 8.



And if those don't work, have a picture of me, pissed at the way things are going. You don't want me going all Ninja (yes, I realize those are typically Japanese and not Korean) on your ass. I'm serious.



Now. Once you've gone and changed your now-brown underwear (or long johns), go out and fight against this stupid, stupid ban. Even if you're not in California. I don't care. Go out and fight. Organize. Something. Anything. Just do it and do it for love.

- May (you remember love).