love is all around

it's an interesting transition when family relationships become friendships. visiting family no longer becomes a once a year thing where you talk about your job and other 'safe' subjects so they don't worry about you being crazy in new york and perhaps killing yourself slowly. i've never really lived near my extended family so i've never been able to build relationships with them that more closely resemble my friendships. but as time passes and the more we see each other in our natural environments with our own groups of friends we get a more complete vision of who we are. we move past just being 'the cuz' and into actual people with lives outside of the family setting. people you're related to don't choose to be, as a result friendships aren't always a given for multitudes of reasons. but i have to say that when it does work, when you finally do bond with family it's exceedingly rewarding because blood ties draw you closer to each other much more quickly. then you find out about how much you have in common, their real wants and desires that aren't the 'safe' answers things get so much more real and interesting. you're no longer making assumptions based on what the other person chooses to show you. you become vulnerable and you don't have the choice of hiding thoughts and feelings and smiling all the time even when you don't want to because they now know better. the layers get peeled away. it's a good feeling.

i think, watching people when they're among close friends really tells you a lot about who they are. are they the ones who watch out for their friends when they're faced with unwanted attention? get them drinks? help them host? how do they greet each other? (are they genuinely excited to see each other?) how do they touch? do they care how they appear to strangers? this weekend i saw a lot of pure excitement between friends, real bonds, and a very real desire to just enjoy the moment. because, really, what else is there? exhausted as i am, i am full of love right now. (please, try not to barf on your keyboard.) i'm very lucky to have the friends i have. and now i feel like i've added a few more exceptional people. thank you.

i think, touch is a very underrated method of communication. minds out of the gutter. i value my personal space just as much as the next person, especially at rush hour on the subway but i've always been particularly drawn to people who greet with big hugs and kisses, or just touch your arm or leg when you're chatting. people who aren't afraid of contact, because i'm not, but because other people tend to be i restrain myself. i think our society has veered away from human contact for whatever reason and we can all use just a little bit more of it. just a touch can speak volumes. this weekend, i realized how important that is to me. i've noticed that i build friendships more quickly with people who are more touchy. because it's comfort. it's reassurance. it's warmth. it's acknowledgement that you're a living, breathing, human being. you're there. perhaps that's why i like to give people massages randomly.

i'm at the airport right now, already missing the people i'm leaving but also excited to be with the people at home. enough rambling i think. plus, people are scowling at me for usurping computer time.

Head Over Feet

I woke up this morning, looked at my iTunes, and out of 6948 songs I picked this song by Alanis Morissette. The lyrics (see below) are a strangely accurate (mostly) in describing my feelings towards Obama.

Last night was electric. Energy pulsed in every crack and crevice of this great city. People screamed in the streets as if it was New Years' or perhaps a jailbreak. It was like we were stirred out of an 8-year coma. Over and over again, people (like myself) who said they've never cared about politics, cared and were unable to explain why. I was convinced that Obama had only possessed New York until last night. I hope that watching him win in a landslide will serve to unite these 50 broken states. To realize that as different as each district, town, and city may be the majority announced last night that we were ready for something different. We know Obama doesn't have shoes to fill, he has shoes to fix. Change wont happen overnight and it would be unrealistic to expect otherwise. Eight years of pouty, childish, holier than thou behavior will take some time to reverse however seeing people in other countries celebrate Obama's victory gives me hope that our reputation in the world community can be repaired. It's time to turn a new leaf, start a new chapter, take a deep breath, do all the things we've said we needed to do, and start the healing. No one who knows me would ever call me a patriot, in fact, people called me a communist in high school, but I have faith in people. Our biggest obstacle is the fear we have in ourselves. I have faith in the things that can be accomplished if we only believed that we could.


'I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like Im a princess
Im not used to liking that
You ask how my day was

(chorus)
Youve already won me over in spite of me
Dont be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Dont be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldnt help it
Its all your fault

Your love is think and it swallowed me whole
Youre so much braver than I gave you credit for
Thats not lip service

(repeat chorus)

You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience

Youre the best listener that Ive ever met
Youre my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long

Ive never felt this healthy before
Ive never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now

(repeat chorus)'

The 3 categories of female undergarments

I came across a blogpost this morning about women's underwear just now and asked Mr. Ling-erie what he thought of said blogpost. I found what he said to be hysterical, accurate, and worthy of a wwbd blogpost to see what ya'll have to say about it. Without further ado I'm honored to present (with minimal editing), 'The 3 categories of female undergarments' by Mr. Ling-erie (aka P.C.):

'you have your cute undies...to lay around in...not good for clothes since it's baggy almost like lounge wear for those ladies who don't like wearing anything beside undies at home...then you have your utility undergarments: everyday, work, comfortable...then you have the come f*#k 'ish out of me undies.

i take mental notes, i mean as a guy you know my stances when it comes to underwear. if i am unwrapping it would be nice if it was well packaged, a bonus, if i may.'

do you agree with Mr. Ling-erie's 3 categories? I think I do. I honestly didn't realize until recently that underoos are very important to some on a sexual level. Of course, I recognize there's visual appeal but I dunno I guess I just didn't know it's a bigger deal to some.

An amazing essay

please read: Here's the original

'If Men Could Menstruate

by Gloria Steinem
Ms. Magazine, October 1978 (EXCERPT)

So what would happen if suddenly, magically, men could menstruate and women could not?

Clearly, menstruation would become an enviable, worthy, masculine event:

Men would brag about how long and how much.

Young boys would talk about it as the envied beginning of manhood. Gifts, religious ceremonies, family dinners, and stag parties would mark the day.

To prevent monthly work loss among the powerful, Congress would fund a National Institute of Dysmenorrhea. Doctors would research little about heart attacks, from which men would be hormonally protected, but everything about cramps.

Sanitary supplies would be federally funded and free. Of course, some men would still pay for the prestige of such commercial brands as Paul Newman Tampons, Muhammad Ali's Rope-a-Dope Pads, John Wayne Maxi Pads, and Joe Namath Jock Shields- "For Those Light Bachelor Days."

Statistical surveys would show that men did better in sports and won more Olympic medals during their periods.
Generals, right-wing politicians, and religious fundamentalists would cite menstruation ("men-struation") as proof that only men could serve God and country in combat ("You have to give blood to take blood"), occupy high political office ("Can women be properly fierce without a monthly cycle governed by the planet Mars?"), be priests, ministers, God Himself ("He gave this blood for our sins"), or rabbis ("Without a monthly purge of impurities, women are unclean").

Male liberals and radicals, however, would insist that women are equal, just different; and that any woman could join their ranks if only she were willing to recognize the primacy of menstrual rights ("Everything else is a single issue") or self-inflict a major wound every month ("You must give blood for the revolution").

Street guys would invent slang ("He's a three-pad man") and "give fives" on the corner with some exchange like, "Man you lookin' good!"

"Yeah, man, I'm on the rag!"

TV shows would treat the subject openly. (Happy Days: Richie and Potsie try to convince Fonzie that he is still "The Fonz," though he has missed two periods in a row. Hill Street Blues: The whole precinct hits the same cycle.) So would newspapers. (Summer Shark Scare Threatens Menstruating Men. Judge Cites Monthlies In Pardoning Rapist.) And so would movies. (Newman and Redford in Blood Brothers!)

Men would convince women that sex was more pleasurable at "that time of the month." Lesbians would be said to fear blood and therefore life itself, though all they needed was a good menstruating man.

Medical schools would limit women's entry ("they might faint at the sight of blood").

Of course, intellectuals would offer the most moral and logical arguments. Without the biological gift for measuring the cycles of the moon and planets, how could a woman master any discipline that demanded a sense of time, space, mathematics-- or the ability to measure anything at all? In philosophy and religion, how could women compensate for being disconnected from the rhythm of the universe? Or for their lack of symbolic death and resurrection every month?

Menopause would be celebrated as a positive event, the symbol that men had accumulated enough years of cyclical wisdom to need no more.

Liberal males in every field would try to be kind. The fact that "these people" have no gift for measuring life, the liberals would explain, should be punishment enough.

And how would women be trained to react? One can imagine right-wing women agreeing to all these arguments with a staunch and smiling masochism. ("The ERA would force housewives to wound themselves every month": Phyllis Schlafly)

In short, we would discover, as we should already, that logic is in the eye of the logician. (For instance, here's an idea for theorists and logicians: if women are supposed to be less rational and more emotional at the beginning of our menstrual cycle when the female hormone is at its lowest level, then why isn't it logical to say that, in those few days, women behave the most like the way men behave all month long? I leave further improvisation up to you.)

The truth is that, if men could menstruate, the power justifications would go on and on.

If we let them.'

Men's Health Urbanathlon, #789

I've never seen Central Park in such a fog. It was almost 7am, almost race time, and I was almost at the start line, but not quite. I observed the quietness of the park at that hour. The only audible sounds were the pounding feet of the regular morning runners making their rounds around the main loop. I start seeing people who were there for the same purpose as me and I follow them. I'm more nervous than I was right before I went skydiving. Is it strange that I was more afraid of this than falling out of an airplane?

I find D and we head to the start line JUST as the race was about to begin. We've got our respective ipods strapped in, give each other a high five, and get to work. It was certainly surreal jogging across 72nd street at 7am with 1500 other people under this immense fog. I wonder if any of the people sleeping cozily in the nearby buildings are aware of this mass of runners just beneath them. We decide to split as we get on the path along the Hudson. I notice that I can't even really see New Jersey just across the river. I look ahead of me. I look to the side. I try to focus on the carefully curated playlist I'd tweaked the night before in preparation. My feet are already wet and the unseemly thought of blisters pops into my head. Will I have to abort the race because of blisters? Luckily D told me he was going to get dri fit socks the night before and I made a hasty stop at Paragon to pick up socks and a longish pair of chocolate running shorts.

I stay at my own pace and run to my own beat, after all, my goal was to finish without stopping. This was not a race of speed but rather a challenge of the mind and body. Could I do this? I notice runners with "Go Army" tees pass me and I realize that I'm going up against people who run drills like this regularly at work, who've likely seen war, and who will leave me in the dust. But no matter, this is not a race. I see the first obstacle and think, "Here we go Barb." I see D exit the obstacle as I approach it. I jump and crawl my way through it easily. "That wasn't so bad, I hope they're all like this," I think. I left a piece of skin behind while crawling through one of the tubes. I'm bleeding. Great. I skip the water stop and head on. No stopping. No stopping.

I jog along, past the 34th street heliport and see a couple about to split. "Go on," she motions. As he pulls ahead of her. I end up in line with him, running at an awkwardly similar pace right next to each other, one of us hoping to pull ahead and leave the other behind for solitude. He pulls ahead of me. I see two cars of people pull up near 14th street with signs looking for the runners they came to support. "Cute," I think. Onward. I see the pier where the second set of obstacles are sure to be. I crawl. I wipe by hands on my shirt before gripping the monkey bars, sure that I will fall off before reaching the other side. Did I train for this? "If you fall off, you'll have to backtrack a lap and try again," I hear. I miraculously get across in one shot. Pain sears trough my shoulders and traps. "How the hell did I just do that?" I see the marine hurdles which might as well be walls. The logjam leading up to it served as a nice break. "How am I gonna do this?" I turn around and ask the guy behind me, "Will you boost me if I need it?"

"Sure, no problem."

There were probably 5 hurdles, #367 boosted me on each one. I could feel the bruises on my knees each time I hoisted myself over the wood.

"I got you hon, don't worry."

I finish the hurdles, "I owe you big time, #367." I high-fived him and went on.

Onward.

I jog past city streets and think about people I know comfortably sleeping in their beds nearby, dreaming away. "Why the hell am I doing this?"

Fatigue starts to set in near Canal St and I marvel that I've made it this far. "Just gotta get to 7 World Trade Barb, that's all you gotta do."

I see people careening out of the building as I approach. I jog through a small group of supporters, past relayers waiting on teammates, and into the escape stairwell. The air is thick, ventilation is limited, and the sweat on the rails reminds me not to touch my face directly with my hands from here on out. I hear someone say, "this is the real death march," and I think of the other 'death marches' I've been on consisting mainly of endless walking around new cities. I suddenly have a refined definition. Big strapping men wearing boot camp tees are stopping on the landings. Young volunteers appear on every other landing offering support, "only 40 more flights to go!"

One woman says, "I don't think I can make it." "Yes you can!" I say "You're almost there." Onward.

I get to the 52nd FL. I hear, "Rest this way, otherwise this way to head back down."

I head right back down. Legs are wobbly. I take it slowly. I feel my 17th wind and speed up. Round and round. I look up for a second, get dizzy, look back down.

I exit 7 World Trade, grab a big jug of water and pour it into where I last remembered my mouth should be. I run on.

"More stairs!???" I hear someone exclaim.

It was the overpass back to the river side of the highway.

My final mile to the finish was a slow slow jog. "Don't stop Barb, don't stop you're almost there."

I'm reminded of an airport arrivals area as I enter Battery Park and pass through throngs of well-wishers.

I see people slide across the taxis. I see the wall. The very. Big. Wall. With just a rope. What I have is beyond fatigue but the finish line is just on the other side of this wall. Just. I lock eyes with a man who was waiting at the base offering boosts. You ready? Yeah, I guess. I get up and barely peek over the wall. I see the finish but my muscles are not helping me get anything more than my eyeballs over this wall. "Are you okay?" I hear. I feel the wood burning marks into my skin. "Just a little bit more!" I say. I contemplate stepping on his shoulder and head to give me that extra boost. Somehow we get me up and over. I steady myself on the platform before heading onward to cross the finish. "Barb!" I hear. I look over and see D. Euphoria sets in. We high five each other. "Oh my god I'm so proud of us" we both say repeatedly. Euphoria, adrenaline, whatever it is causes us to babble on for a minute or so until I realize I need water. "Lets get some water."

I feel a tap on my shoulder, "Congrats." It was the woman in the stairwell who 'couldn't' go on. I say "yes, you too."

I'm #789 and it's almost 9am.

Party for a cause!

Here's some stuff:

1. Support BARACK OBAMA at this special event!

Featuring DJ ?uestlove on the ones and twos


Thursday, September 11th, 2008
Sutra, 16 First Ave., bet 1st and 2nd streets
$10 suggested donations at the door. ALL PROCEEDS go directly to the Obama '08 campaign.
On site voter registration!
Doors at 9:00pm
www.okayplayer.com



2. 'From: Not the Desmonds
Date: Tue, Sep 9, 2008 at 11:00 PM
Subject: NTD Benefit Showcase for Gifted Hands - 9/21
To: notthedesmonds@gmail.com


Friends of Not The D.,

We're sending out a save the date for a very fun and important Benefit
Showcase that we're hosting.

On September 21st, three bands will play the Living Room in the Lower East Side:

7:00 p.m. The Peel School
8:00 p.m. Not The Desmonds
9:00 p.m. Scott's Roger

First, let me start by saying that the members of The Peel School (the
new name of Mike Kleba's band) and Scott's Roger are not only all
fantastic people and great friends of mine, they're also writing and
performing some truly astounding music. No joke - you will laugh, cry
and do all those other cliche things we all do when we hear music
that's life changing. If you don't know their music, this gig is a
perfect opportunity for you to get acquainted with them. If you
do...well, you already know what I'm talking about.

Second, 100% of the $10 cover (for all three bands) will go to Gifted
Hands, an art therapy agency and community of volunteers based in the
Lower East Side who have a passion to help improve the lives of their
neighbors in New York City. For over 15 years, Gifted Hands has been
reaching out to "the least and the last" in the city, helping them to
see value in themselves through discovering they have the power to
create. Serving neighbors through art, music, dance, spiritual
support, design and other programs, Gifted Hands helps men and women
in shelters, recovery programs, crisis pregnancy centers, HIV/AIDS
residences, elder care residencies, youth-at-risk centers, foster care
group homes, churches, and people living on the streets.

Gifted Hands has started over 50 art programs around NYC and abroad
teaching jewelry, art and craft projects, stained glass, wood working,
sculpture, painting, decoupage, pen and ink drawing, and poetry
writing...hundreds of our city's least fortunate find satisfaction and
hope just by picking up a paintbrush, molding a piece of clay or
singing music they could never have imagined even hearing.
Friends, this is what being an artist is all about - making the world
a better place. We hope to see you on Sunday the 21st to celebrate
and contribute to this organization. Here are a few additional
details:
The Living Room
154 Ludlow Street btw. Stanton and Rivington
www.livingroomny.com
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Show starts at 7 p.m. sharp! Don't be late!!

Gifted Hands: http://giftedhandsnyc.com

The Peel School: www.myspace.com/thepeelschool

Scott's Roger: www.myspace.com/scottsroger

See you there.

Michael E.
Not a Desmonds
www.myspace.com/notthedesmonds'

The Dark Knight

I had never seen a full Batman movie until last night and am still not quite sure why I wanted to see The Dark Knight. Nevertheless I was told to make my one go of it in IMAX. Thanks for the advice ya'll because it was awesome. This is definitely one of those movies that's worth $18 for an IMAX ticket. I felt tingly in moments when Mr. Batman threw himself from skyscrapers. Awesome. But what I'm really surprised about is how deep it is. It was a study in social conditioning. Of course, I expected the typical 'battle of good vs. evil' but, to me, it wasn't posed that way. Batman and the Joker are human, not superhuman the difference is that the Joker is more twisted due to what sounds like years of emotional abuse from his family, partners, and plain old innate craziness, etc. Harvey Dent's 'development' is posed to us as an example of how the Joker 'turned.'

The movie brought up these thoughts about human nature for me:

- Is it true that we dislike in others what we loath most about ourselves? I don't know about that. Things I dislike tend to be exact opposite of me. What about you?

- What is true is that people definitely show their true colors in times of crisis. Without giving too much away, I really admire, though am not all that surprised, by how the convict on the boat behaved at the end.

- Witness the 'moles,' is it really possible to bribe someone when human lives are at stake? Even though we were told the money was for medical purposes it's like she was trading one life for many. Which I guess is one of the main themes. How much is human life worth? Sacrifice someone near to you? Or many strangers? A bunch of convicts? Or regular citizens? Batman? Or the city of Gotham? The point posed goes against the popular concept of survival of the fittest. Rather, here, it's about the greater good. This movie seems apt in these times. We've become so much about ourselves whether in our personal lives in government, perhaps it's meant to be commentary on how we can improve on our society. Is the screenwriter saying that America is destined to become Gotham City if we stay on our general path? I admit, I think people have become increasingly selfish, care less about the greater good and social responsibility. For fear of sounding like an old fart, I think the generation of kids growing up today are really at a lack for all the aforementioned things, they're almost helpless because everything is done for them or at their fingertips. Kids are fearless about talking back to teachers, don't care about passing classes, don't care about disturbing a whole car of train passengers with their behavior, don't care about holding a door open for an elderly person (or anyone), don't care about giving up a seat for a pregnant lady, etc. I bet, my mother's generation said the same things about mine but I feel like I could easily chat with someone of my mom's age and we'd agree. It's a sense of common sense, decency, and etiquette that has been usurped by a focus on personal satisfaction. I feel like the more I write the more I lose meaning but I hope it makes sense because I think the deterioration is a damn shame. I mean, when I'm old are kids just gonna push me over on the sidewalk? Really, I'm just thinking of my own well-being as a senior citizen. ha.

In any case, a movie that makes me think is good in my book. 3 cheers for Batman and I really think Heath Ledger was fantastic. I can see how he must've been overtaken by the Joker's 'darkness.' I think I would be too.

sidewalk dining, All Points West festival

1. Just came across this really cool thing on NYMag.com it lists 200 of their top restaurants with sidewalk seating. I'd beware of heavily trafficked areas though, you don't want to end up inhaling more exhaust than food.

2. My friend has two extra tickets to the Alhttp://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2208490287871300707&postID=7136254816609073606l Points West Festival for this Saturday. He's looking to sell them for face value ($89). If you're interested, contact him: Subhash 917 340-4149

Looks like Radiohead and The Roots are playing.

3. If you want to opt out of catalogs, this seems like a good, central place to do it. Found on the Women's Health Mag website:

www.catalogchoice.org

Easy way to save some paper and energy.

4. Would the ladies reading use this???????
http://gocommandos.com/

Go forth and conquer!

subway etiquette 101

i can tell u what barb wouldn't do and that is to groom. on the. subway. seriously. some woman who had a faint resemblance to ms. piggy (and i mean that in the nicest possible way) sat one seat away from me on the subway this morning. she announced her arrival with the thud of her purse on the seat between us and i mean a THUD. there must've been bricks in there or something. then makeup started coming out and she was applying it here and there, nothing i hadn't seen before but then...then...then...she pulled out the tweezers! what's worse is that she was plucking stray hairs from her lip area. pursing her VERY full lips to pluck pluck pluck. i looked across at the other riders searching for looks of horror and disbelief and felt justified. who does that? i mean, i've seen people clip their nails and apply makeup but i think tweezing is a bit much. i understand the concept of multitasking but if you can't squeeze out 5 minutes to do that in your own bathroom then perhaps you should be relegated to hairiness. are on board subway waxers far behind?

we pull into 23rd street and it was like the conductor was waiting for her to pull her ish together to get off the train. the doors were open an abnormal amount of time while she dropped makeup, spilled coffee, and scrambled to throw herself out of the car in time before the doors shut behind her.

then all the people in my portion of the train just giggled both to each other and to themselves. i think even spied a smirk on the face of the gross offender while she composed herself on the platform. perhaps she realized the ridiculousness of it all or just wished she got off the train more gracefully aware of the audience around her.

Mortality

Sometimes I wonder why some deserve to live longer than others? Sometimes I wonder if it means that those who live longer are given the time because they have something further to contribute to humanity? Sometimes I wonder if some people would think of what lies after death, whatever that may be, as being better than life? These are not questions I expect answers to, likely because there aren't any, but I also can't help but ask when indirectly confronted with deaths that are so sudden, seemingly unjustified, and cruel (to those left behind). Perhaps asking questions doesn't help? Perhaps this is one of those instances where you just have to accept things as they are and look towards the happier things in life? Value what you have and all that jazz. After all, there's an endless array of the 'Sometimes,' 'Perhaps,' and 'maybes,' 'ifs,' 'ands,' or 'buts' one can pose. 'Unfair,' is another word that comes to mind. But because these are seemingly unanswerable questions, the only way for me to think about death is as a part of life and equally as unpredictable. As a result, we can only go day by day, enjoying all that we can in the time we are given so that perhaps when it is our time those we leave behind can say, 'hey, at least she lived a full life and never held back.'

Now that I'm in better humor compared to this morning when I wrote the above, I'd like to say, "Live hard, play hard, try not to die."

Electronic crap = Money

I've got at least 3 old cell phones, an old PDA, cameras, an almost dead computer and lord knows what else stowed away at home. Think about it, I bet you do too. So when I read about Gazelle this morning in my Wise Bread newsletter (it's a really good one btw), I thought it was worth sharing since they give you money for your crap and pay for shipping. Here's the description from Wise Bread:

'We all have a few old electronics lying around that we never use anymore. It seems a waste to just throw them away, but it often takes effort to sell them. Now there is a new service called Gazelle that allows you to trade your old electronics for cash with the least amount of hassle.

Gazelle has a very simple to use website that allows you to search for the gadget you wish to get rid of. After you find your item you can input the condition it is in. For example, I typed in Palm Zire 71 and I was asked if the item powers on and what condition it is in. After that, Gazelle spits out an appraisal and allows me to add the item for checkout. It also has an estimate of how much the item may be worth in the future. For electronics the price trend tends to go down because people always want to buy the newest gadget. After I checked out, it prompted me to print out a prepaid shipping label and ship the item with a box. For some qualifying items Gazelle will even send you a box to ship the item.

After the item is received Gazelle will inspect the item and confirm that it is in the condition you described, then you will be paid the quoted price. This process takes about a week according to the website. The company also guarantees that if you ship in an electronic with data on it they would wipe it clean so you do not have to worry about your privacy. They will also take items with no value for the purpose of recycling.

Currently the company buys mostly electronics such as cell phones or gaming consoles, but they may expand the types of items they are willing to purchase in the future. It really seems like a love child between a pawn shop and Netflix, and I am sure it will help a lot of people get rid of their unwanted junk because it is so easy to use. Users of Gazelle will reduce the amount of junk that go to landfills and also reclaim a few bucks in the process so it really seems like a win win situation. So go ahead and try it out, because that pile of junk sitting in your garage may be worth some gas money.'


Get Cash For Your Gadgets at gazelle.com

News Flash Walter Cronkite

I don't get it. I've been on the not-so-enviable receiving end of some unsolicited heckling and I've also witnessed other ladies getting harassed in the last week. The majority of the hecklers, I've noticed, are construction workers. Normally, it's flattering and I don't mind but last week I found it intrusive, unnecessary and annoying. It also made me wonder why it's mostly construction workers. Is it because they're peeping on the general populace all day long while they're working? Is it because they think they're giving women a confidence boost? Is it because they're bored? Is it some frat boy mentality? Does ANYONE know a construction worker they can ask? We all people-watch, I mean, it's the sport of New York but to feel the need to audibly comment all the time? I don't quite get it. Do they expect us to turn around and drop down to our knees to propose marriage? Really? I get that it's summer, and therefore open season on women in skimpy clothing but I guess I wonder why comments have to be vulgar and not just generally appreciative if they are to be made at all. I feel like that makes more sense. Wouldn't the average woman be more likely to respond to a 'hey beautiful' rather than 'oh my f*c*i*g god, look at that a*s' or 'those legs would break me.' I think the increasing level of vulgarity is whats prompted me to post this but I recognize I've got no control over any of it. Just wondering what other ladies thought in regards to heckling?

We may be grown up

(mostly) but there's still fun to be had (absolutely). In that spirit my dear dear friend has been sweating over Sweeeeet for the last few months and it's finally done. It's a game/story book for adults but not in that lude and crude way. It looks awesome. I haven't gotten a copy yet but knowing her, it wont disappoint. Get a Sweeeeet! taste right here then get one for yourself to keep your A.D.D. ass entertained on the subway or on the beach.

Energy

Just read this in the EcoStiletto newsletter which in turn quoted MoveOn.org:

'And not to get all political on you or anything, but we thought we might help spread the word about Al Gore's challenge to the incoming administration to commit to producing 100 percent of our electricity from renewable energy and clean carbon-free sources within 10 years. To paraphrase: We're borrowing money from China to buy oil from the Persian Gulf while scientists say that enough solar energy falls on the surface of the earth every 40 minutes to meet 100 percent of the entire world's energy needs for a full year and enough wind power blows through the Midwest corridor every day to meet 100 percent of U.S. electricity demand. As MoveOn.org puts it, "When we send money to foreign countries to buy nearly 70 percent of the oil we use every day, they build new skyscrapers and we lose jobs. When we spend that money building solar arrays and windmills, we build competitive industries and gain jobs here at home...It is only a truly dysfunctional system that would buy into the perverse logic that the short-term answer to high gasoline prices is drilling for more oil ten years from now."'

I had no idea oil free energy was so plentiful! Did you?

Support the challenge!

my mind's in disturbia because this shit is making me mental

yes, i like rihanna, more and more with each poppy hit she rolls off the assembly line. her songs are damn catchy and for some reason 'disturbia' is resonating with me right now. another song i like is alanis' 'straitjacket.' hmm, 'disturbia' and 'straitjacket' what does that say about my state of mind or is it possible i'm reading too much into it? i think i'm just a little tired. the first part of this year has been a bit of a whirlwind between traveling, work transitions, and life in general and i'm pooped. i feel like sitting back and letting other people take the steering wheel. i want to be a passenger, i'm sick of driving. but perhaps i'm just literally sick of driving because i drove 500 miles last week?. but i usually like to drive, though probably not in traffic. yes, perhaps. because 'i would walk 500 miles, and i would walk 500 hundred more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to be with you, dah dah dah, dah dah dah, dah dah dah, dadadumdadeedumdadum...'

and that's my life in song lyrics ladies and gents. haha.

The Celestine Prophecy

So i just finished reading this and have some thoughts. i'm not one for too much spirituality like seeing people's positive energy fields glow and grow, i can understand that as a metaphor but not reality. there are a few concepts i can appreciate particularly:

- if you give positive energy you'll get positive energy from others in return
- there are no coincidences
- you encounter everyone in life for a reason and it's up to you to find out just what that reason is or it'll pass you by
- human conflicts are a result of a battle for energy, people wanting to take energy from others
- in matters of the heart, it's best to start from a place of friendship. otherwise it's easy to get carried away with 'love at first sight' which is great until the dust settles and one person expects the energy that should be reciprocal to just be given resulting in conflict.

while these aren't new concepts i appreciate them as guidelines to how we should treat each other and approach life. they make sense, no? think about it.The

The world needs more

of crazy fun people like the ones in this video:

Where the Hell is Matt?

it's JUST not that serious. have fun. now.

Coolio quote

a friend sent me this item that's for sale on Etsy and i just love the quote:

'EVIL
For I must love, and
am resolv'd to try
My fate, or, failing
in the
adventure, die.'

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=8577030

Best meal of my life?

I'm not sure. Last night Dubya and I dined at Momofuku Ko, for the uninitiated or blissfully ignorant, it's David Chang's latest dining mecca except without a ssam or noodle (unless you count a pasta shell) in sight. Getting the reservation is the hardest part but completely worth the effort. Dubya and I had been trying for months before he serendipitously lucked out last week. We made a pact that if either of us 'made it' we'd bring the other.

Those who know me know I'm not a huge fan of seafood. I like to blame my mother for serving me lots of ugly looking fish when i was a kid and saying, 'eat it, it's brain food!' But by now I think it's just a personal vendetta of Barb vs. edible sea creatures. Honestly I just don't think I like the texture and taste. Ah mom, what else can I blame you for?

HOWEVER, I was paying $100 for a chef's tasting menu and you better believe I ate every last bit of everything short of the plate(s) and wooden chopsticks. Anyway Dubya pointed out to me that this was going to be a once in a blue moon kinda thing so we should just go all out and get the drink pairing as well. I said, 'what the hell?' I'm in for $100 why not $150? It would have otherwise gone to a pair of jeans i would've eventually 'outgrown,' instead i splurged on a meal that would surely help me outgrow all my clothes. You can choose to spend either $50, $85, or $100 on the pairings and I can say the $50 was WELL worth it. Drinks ranged from sake to beer to a white wine made in the style of a red out of sauvignon blanc grapes. I NEED to find out the label of that one.

I'm not writing to give a detailed review of each course. I actually don't even know how many there were, speculation leads to a number between 10-12. My favorite dishes were the deep fried short ribs, the last dessert course which involved corn flakes, milk and something that tasted like Toblerone (the chocolate of my fatty mcfatty fat childhood), the dish containing split pea soup and items from the great states of Georgia and Louisiana, and the poached egg situation. I was obviously NOT taking copious notes about my food like the dude on my left who I bet was a food blogger/writer of some sort. He was definitely trying to sweet talk the lone lady chef into divulging details she probably didn't care to divulge.

The whole experience was spectacular. I was transfixed watching the 3 chefs meticulously assemble each dish in front of me while the 'two hot women' (Dubya's words, not mine) hustled behind us to bus the dishes, serve and explain each drink, and be generally pleasant. I think the staff were engineered to say, 'good luck,' to anyone who discussed the 'next time' they get a reservation there because i heard it more than once from a 2/6 staff present. haha. not in a mocking way, just simply 'good luck.' In any case, the food was delicious, all of it. I even liked the halibut, the crawfish in the pea soup, supposedly there was some foie gras in one dish but the lychees masked all that flavor for me, the fluke now seems unmemorable compared to my favorites but i'd be hard-pressed to come up with one dish i didn't like. I even liked the butter knives that had contrasting angled handles so that they rested on the cutting edge of the blade. How cool?

My one disappointment? Espresso out of a pod! Everything was so painstakingly prepared and to end with espresso from a pod? Boo. I kid. I have a pod espresso doohickey at home and it makes very tasty coffee for lazy people.

I've realized lately how 'into' food i've become in the last two years but why not? Good food is one of the great pleasures of life and it's harder to come by than you think, especially if you've had great meals like this...everything else just pales in comparison. How many fond memories do you have that are attached to a meal? Plus, you're putting it into your body why not make sure it's the good stuff?

'What Women Want (Maybe)'

I just read a terribly interesting article from the New York Times, here's a nugget:

'“Women physically don’t seem to differentiate between genders in their sex responses, at least heterosexual women don’t,” she said. “For heterosexual women, gender didn’t matter. They responded to the level of activity.”

Dr. Chivers’s work adds to a growing body of scientific evidence that places female sexuality along a continuum between heterosexuality and homosexuality, rather than as an either-or phenomenon.'

It continues to say that men who label themselves "bi" are generally more aroused by men while women who label themselves as such are equally aroused by both sexes. That says to me something we've all known all along that men don't have the same level of freedom to express their sexuality in society as women do. Bi women are 'hot' while bi men are just assumed to be gay. Fair? Not so much. I think it's because the current perspectives are mainly from a heterosexual male's viewpoint; bi women will eventually 'come to their senses' and go running back to men and bi men are just masquerading with women to cover up gayness.

I wish people would just simmer down with the need to label because some just don't fall into a category anymore and there's nothing wrong with that. And even when they do, in the case of the bi male, they're still perceived as something else so why bother categorizing anyway if you're going to believe what you want? In any case, I think it's an interesting article and subject that merits discussion because that's the only way to get people to consider that perhaps labeling isn't the most efficient way to 'figure out' those they encounter.

Light bulb!

What great insight. Had to share:

'In Latin America there were so many things that were out of your control. The check you were expecting might arrive or the bank could go bankrupt, wiping out your life savings in an hour. The bus you were expecting might come in an hour, or it might not come at all -- which means that you could stand in line freaking out, checking your watch, and asking everyone where the bust was, or you could set your bags down and start up an impromptu party with the people around you. Either way, the bus was either going to come or it wouldn't. There was nothing worrying would do to make it come any faster.

This attitude was the only way to survive in Latin America and it had taken a lot of time to make it finally sink in. After all, I had been trained from birth that everything was within my control. I had to be accountable, be responsible, make things happen. But now I understand that responsibility was only part of the equation -- life was the process of finding the delicate balance between responsibility and spontaniety, adulthood and innocence, duty and joy.

In the United States, we placed so much stock in responsibility, because we held on to an illusory notion that we were completely in control of our lives. Any bad event was an aberration, an act that needed to be remedied. We believed in order: The movie was supposed to start on time, the ATM machine was expected to work, the mechanic would never be out to lunch when we needed repair. Bad things weren't supposed to happen, but when they did, someone had to be punished. If I slipped in a restaurant, it was the owner's fault. If I got in a car accident, someone was always to blame. In the United States, there was an incessant need to control a world it was often impossible to control. Because the truth was, sometimes the plate simply slipped out of your hands.'

- From Avoiding Prison + Other Noble Vacation Goals, by Wendy Dale

Makes total sense doesn't it?

love is an action

so yesterday a friend introduced me to this quote:

“Love is not a feeling. Love is an action, an activity. . .Genuine love implies commitment and the exercise of wisdom. . . . love as the will to extend oneself for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth.....true love is an act of will that often transcends ephemeral feelings of love or cathexis, it is correct to say, 'Love is as love does'.” - M. Scott Peck

if you read my previous post about action it should be obvious why this quote resonates with me. love is what we all aspire to isn't it? love of your work, love of others, which translates ultimately into a love of life and having it infused into all areas of your existence.

here's a fantastical piece from Shambhala Sun along the same lines.

yes, i'm having an existential morning. sue me! :P

A Barb Bikes in Brooklyn

The weather yesterday was so beautiful that my lazy arse couldn't refuse myself a nice bike ride but i wasn't content with just a turn around the park, i wanted to explore other parts of Brooklyn. So I pulled out an old issue of TONY that featured worthy local bike rides and set off. I biked from Park Slope to Manhattan Beach and back. Who knew there's a Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn? I didn't. It's WAY better than Coney Island but also WAY smaller. But beach aside, the real interesting part to me was riding through the different neighborhoods. Having grown up here I know NY is a salad bowl but it's another scenario entirely when you see so much in a few short hours within the same borough. I managed to biked through Park Stroller into areas where there were signs identifying Punjabi restaurants, people speaking in Arabic, Asian folk playing handball, black folk hanging out on stoops, Hasidic Jews minding the kids, and finally Russians hanging out on the beach. I think I even saw a group of Nepalese men chatting in front of a bodega. In between there were some beautiful and ginormous suburban looking homes with manicured lawns on Ditmas Avenue, Brooklyn College (where Michael Cunningham teaches) in front of which i passed a trainer from my gym, before finally reaching a marina and ultimately the beach. I was in bike lanes pretty much the whole time but i wouldn't recommend the ride if you're afraid of car traffic.

I was reminded while i was riding that part of why I love NY is it's diversity. People fight all over the world, yes i'm mindful that this country is partaking in a grievous war, but in NY people of all backgrounds live in the same borough blocks away from each other. The fact that I could hop on a bike and encounter such a variety of people is amazing. I don't have to get on a plane to go anywhere. The world comes to NY.

On the ride back amidst comments coming from cars like, "hey, can i ride with you," and stares from small children in schoolbusses gawking at me on their way home, and the beginning of fatigue setting in since i was riding home on a flat rear tire I thought, 'hey, this is pretty cool that i got to do this.'

With Every Heartbeat

Just wanted to share some simple yet excellent song lyrics:

With Every Heartbeat by Robyn

'Maybe we could make it alright
We could make it better sometime
Maybe we could make it happen baby
We could keep trying
but things will never change

So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
Just a little, little bit better

Good enough to waste some time
Tell me would it make you happy baby
We could keep trying
but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
We could keep trying
but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back

And it hurts with every heartbeat
It hurts with every heartbeat'

action

when you think about the last action you performed that required thought (i need to go to the gym, i need to buy milk, i need to plan a holiday, i need to check my email, etc.) what are the processes that take it from thought to action? does the amount of thought correspond with the severity and importance of the action? why do some thoughts remain thoughts and never become action? and how does the brain filter? why do some have problems with action and not others? they're all very abstract questions. i recognize this. but i'm gonna try anyway.

i think, for basic everyday actions like going to the gym, cooking, buying milk, checking email, going to the bathroom, and going to work, etc., the thought process happens quickly because the actions are remote, habitual, innate and therefore barely register as actual 'thoughts.' they generally have already been learned. but when it comes to new actions like taking a new route to work, learning a new sport, new language, starting a new relationship or anything that could be written with the word 'new' the processes take longer. 'duh,' you say. 'barb, you're comparing basic human functions to larger changes, not the same thing.' you're right. but at some point, wasn't learning those basic human functions a big deal? or is it still apples and oranges?

what prompts some to action and not others?

for some reason i feel like i'm in the minority sometimes as far as people who think and actually 'do.' i like to talk and analyze. i can do it backwards, forwards, sideways and backwards again but if it's within my realm of possibility, i will also just plain do it. because isn't that the only real way to find out what you're capable of? (i was about to type 'the best way' but decided that using the word 'best' would make it a judgement and this is just thought not judgement) i've discovered it's not so for many people. but why? can we just chalk it up to all of us being different? a lack of want perhaps? or fear of the unknown? for the latter, is it then easier for a person to just constantly wonder than try to conquer the fear?

there are also people who think about something that is very much outside of their norm and do it when the right opportunity presents itself and i wonder what drives them from thought to action. but i guess i just answered my own question by saying it was the presence of, 'the right opportunity.'

undoubtedly, there are thoughts we all have that don't become reality. once upon a time i thought about shaving my head, luckily, for the greater good, i never followed through. but when was the last time you've seriously thought about something like buying a new computer, moving to Timbuktu, quitting your job, but haven't followed through with? why? i think for me, it's almost always a lack of want. i've always said that i really have to want something (moving, new computer,) or really want to be done with something else (jobs, relationships, my old computer) that the action takes place. to me, it's all about want. so if that's my mentality, that's also how i anticipate other people to process their thoughts ('they must not be doing it because they don't really want it'). i wonder what the truth is in that? am i thinking too black and white?

i guess all i can do is continually try to see others' perspectives and trust that they are capable of making their own decisions. but if you know me, you know i like to be in control and will unconsciously try to make those decisions for others even if they don't know that i'm trying. honestly, i think that's why i try to be all things to some people because then i've done my best, presented myself in the best light and will therefore be relatively blameless and free of my conscience in hindsight. because, to me, there's nothing worse than regret. nothing worse than looking back and saying, 'i should have.' because there's nothing you can DO about it once the moment has passed. so there it is. lack of action = regret (to me)

what do you think?

My childhood

Dearest Sandra mentioned shopping for school supplies which just inspired me to come up with this random list of youth related things so blame her...

-Trapper Keepers (a new one every year. duh!)
-The acompanying folders that only fit into said Trapper Keepers
-Mead
-# 2 Pencils
-Marble composition notebooks (bonus points if you could get the colored ones)
-Book protectors/wrappers
-Anything prominently featuring Keroppi or Hello Kitty (not for me of course)
-Metal lunchboxes with thermoses (mine was Annie)
-'Scratch and sniff' anything
-Bazooka (and you have to share/swap the comics with friends)
-Think Michael Jackson and Prince were the same person (I did!)
-Own a headband
-Wax on wax off
-Color Me Badd
-Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch
-Know how to properly spell "Sike!"
-Tamagotchis
-Cabbage Patch Kids and Garbage Pail Kids
-Neon clothing
-TGIF (AND the jingle)
-Alf (i had the hand puppet)
-Know who Balki Bartokomouse is (hello Perfect Strangers!)
-Mr. Belvedere
-'Picture it...Sicily 1949...'
-Hogan's Family
-227
-Know who was "movin' on up to the east side, into a deeeelux apartment in the skyyyy"
-Empty Nest
-Nurses
-The Smurfs and the Snorks
-He Man
-Transformers
-Thundercats
-Know that it's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and not TMNT as it is known today
-8 bit Nintendo (knowing the duck hunt gun had to be ON the tv screen to work and blowing on the cartridge to get the game working)
-"only $19.99 plus shipping and handling"
-Landlines
-Walkman
-Love Phones with Dr. Judy on zzzzzzz100
-Making tapes (including diving at the stereo/hi-fi to stop recording from the radio once the song ended)
-Hate Barney
-You brought Trolls to school
- "___________ & ____________ sitting in a tree, KISSING, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!"
-MASH (the show and the game)
-The fine art of making fortune tellers
-Have they found Carmen Sandiego yet?
-Small Wonder
-Be confused by the Macarena
-Slap bracelets
-PeeWee's Playhouse

Last but not least, be prepared to discuss the previous night's episode of 90210, Melrose Place, Cheers, Seinfeld, Fresh Prince, Blossom, Full House, Dawson's Creek, Different Strokes, and/or Friends. Only discuss Golden Girls with VERY close friends. Oh and have people make fun of you because you weren't allowed to go see movies which resulted in you missing crucial avant-garde cinema such as Pretty in Pink, Space Balls, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off and relevant references stemming from those films (ie., Bueller!) until much later in life. Oh wait, that was just me.

we've got some additions!

Tube socks (neon color=bonus points)
Scrunchies (had way too many of these)
Zinc sun protection (wore this at camp...I remember the bright pink)
Slip 'n Slide (loved that thing in the summer- although it killed the grass on my lawn...)
MC Hammer Pants
Cosby Show
Family Ties
Rainbow Bright
She-Ra (had to mention her if you mentioned He-man)
Carebears
Cabbage Patch Kids (I recall one that burped)
Pepsi Clear
Goonies
Zest commercials (those "zestfully clean" commercials were catchy)
Tie Dye Shirts
Bleaching jeans
those hideous colorful "rings" you tied up your long t-shirts with

No reservations

it's the middle of the day here in Park Slope and i'm watching "No Reservations" with Anthony Bourdain. what's usually a funny show about a tall NY chef traveling and eating in foreign countries and other states in the U.S., is not so funny because in this episode, he's in Beirut. while he's there, he only gets to enjoy one local meal before bombing breaks out. the rest of the episode is about them hiding out in a hotel in a 'safe' part of town and about evacuating out of the city. there are clips of them hanging out by the hotel's pool watching clouds of dropped bombs not so far away. what must that be like? i mean, Bourdain said the most shameful thing they could have had on tape was lounge by the pool and watch. there were kids frolicking in the pool no less. but at the same time there was nothing they could do. their security guy's house was leveled and all they could do was wait at the hotel for the state department to evacuate them. finally they were evacuated by the Marines but in the meantime leaving loads of people behind who weren't as lucky. geez. i mean, thinking about my life, living in park slope where the most drama happens when a parent posts about a lost 'boys hat' on the parents board that caused a huge hoopla over gender politics, i have to think about how lucky i am. how lucky that living in a war zone is NOT my existence and how lucky i am to be able to do the things i do. to have the people i have. to laugh as much as i do. to be as frivolous as i can be.

i have no idea how long ago this episode was taped but i think that's irrelevant. it's about knowing how lucky you are because you can tell how lucky the usually snarky Bourdain, feels and how much he increasingly appreciates life even during the course of this one episode. it was something as trivial as having mac and cheese on the navy boat that triggered a feeling of comfort bc it was a sign that he was safer than he was only days before, it reminded him of home, and he fact that he was on his way back to life as he knows it. mac and cheese, this is a serious NY chef and it was mac and cheese that made him appreciate life. awesome. the experience reminded him that there was no guarantee of tomorrow. because we only have the moment, what's in front of us right now. because our main job in life is really to enjoy the time we have. right. now. thank your lucky stars that, if you're reading this, you likely live a privileged existence. appreciate it. do what you can for the greater good and those near and dear to you and enjoy.

I want your life

lately, i've had a handful of people say this to me and while i find it tremendously flattering i'm not quite sure what to do with it. i don't have anything they don't. if anything, perhaps, just a more relaxed attitude to life. is that possible? perhaps i'm not as driven and type A as others? i can languish in unemployment for a short period without feeling too guilty. on the contrary i'd like to go on a roadtrip or two if possible. but i dunno, the sentiment is a great compliment to me, i guess i'm doing something right? i just hope if other people want it that they can get it. can i help?

blink

so i just finished reading Blink by Malcolm Gladwell. i picked it up randomly off of my friend's bookshelf while i was in maui. i identified it as something i've been wanting to read but the ultimate test for me always comes when i read the first few pages, if it grabs me, it's on! but if not, it'll go back on the shelf. yes, i am a fickle book reader. my bad yo.

but this book did grab me, mostly because it was about psychology and human behavior and i love analysis, i find it all terribly intriguing. however the best part was that it was written in a very approachable manner, not in highfalutin' psychobabble that would have lost me at hello. i'm smart but not that smart. ha.

in any case, i identify with this book because it's about how people make decisions whether it's a snap judgement or a well-thought out processed decision. the jist is that we humans have demonstrated repeatedly (of late) that we don't trust our gut instincts enough. it seems that Gladwell's opinion is that in the end only you know whether to trust your gut or whether you need more evidence. apparently the majority of the time we're flooded with information that only clouds our efforts at judgement. it seems, at times, the less information the better. he use examples of battles during times of war comparing leaders that had vast amounts of intelligence at their disposal vs. others that didn't. the leaders that didn't were forced to trust their instincts and they were usually the ones that won the battle. of course, i'm majorly oversimplifying Gladwell's writing and doubt i'm doing it the justice it deserves but my main attraction to it is that he's calling us to action. not to just be content to sit and evaluate things given all the data that is available to us in this age of technology. to me, he's saying that we as humans are losing our instincts because we're increasingly clouded by information. it's not to say that information is bad, not at all, we just have to be able to figure out what's useful, what's not, and when enough is enough. there are scenarios when computers will repeatedly trump human intellect in frequency and accuracy and hence the beauty of modern technology but there are also a multitude of situations where only our instinct and gut will help us and generally these are the ones that require split second reactions. Gladwell uses examples of studies done on policework, randomized studies, but the most interesting of all (and also the most brilliant in it's simplicity) is one about how orchestras choose new musicians.

apparently, once upon a time, people just came and tried out for specific instruments. makes sense right? but then randomly an orchestra in Germany decided to hold blind auditions which means that the classical musicians tried out behind a screen so the only thing they could be evaluated on was pure skill. so when the maestro of this orchestra heard a particular musician play and say, this is the one, this is the one. do you think he was surprised when the musician came out behind the screen and it was...a woman? absolutely. as is the case in so many things, women were discriminated against in this particular industry. it was thought that women just couldn't play certain, more masculine, instruments properly, they just didn't have the physical capacity or whatever other reason men of the time could come up with. but here, there was irrefutable evidence that a woman could indeed play as well as a man and so eventually (and remember i'm greatly simplifying this) now 50% of orchestras audition blindly. how awesome is that? a problem was identified and instead of organizing some mass method of inquiry/study/investigation someone thought, why not just make it the industry standard to have blind auditions? because in the end, all that matters is the music right? so Gladwell's point in the end, in my opinion, was that if we could return to that kind of thought that's more...simple, simplistic, basic, elementary...many of the issues that we as a society face right now could possibly be solved. again, i recognize that many of the problems of the world are complex but just because they are complex does that mean there's no simple solution?

if i had to sum up this book briefly i'd say that he's urging us to go back to our instincts, a tool we've been equipped with probably since the beginning of time now dulled by lack of confidence in humans over machines and a deluge of information. if you know me, you'd know by now why i like this book. it has been a process but i've gradually learned to trust my gut because it has been proven to me over and over again that it's usually right. i've allowed myself to be open to and at least consider the opportunities that come my way. and luckily i can say that 95% of the time it's turned out phenomenally. listen to your instincts and you'll know when to go, stop, and/or pause. have faith and patience that the universe is not out to destroy you. half full people, half full.

skydiving

it all started out on a girls night at C's house.

L said, 'hey i'm going skydiving for my birthday.'
i say, 'hey, i've been wanting to go again.'
L: 'you wanna go? my friend's mom is an avid skydiver and she's hooking me up."
B: 'sure, i'm in!
L: 'anyone else? lets all go.'

and that's pretty much how it came to be that 5 girls drove to connecticut on 4/26 to jump out of a plane...

but there's really nothing like it which makes it somewhat hard to describe when people ask, "well how was it?" actually i find that a hard question to answer in general. it's so broad, where does one begin?

lemme try.
picture it:

i jump into a suit that makes me look like a mechanic, 'give me a wrench C!'

getting on the plane you wonder what the hell you're doing and why. the further up you climb, the smaller objects on the ground seem, the more you think about your life and things you've yet to do. though i will say that there are worse ways to go then while skydiving. i thought about how lucky i am to have done as much as i have thus far. but as we climb to 4,000 ft and the 'funjumper' went out and was swept away abruptly by the atmosphere...THAT'S when the real fear kicks in and you want to cry 'mommy' and get back on the ground which, of course, isn't possible (at least not for someone with as much pride as me, if i go skydiving, i'm skydiving). when you watch someone else fall out of a plane and get taken away by the wind, it's not something you forget. my feet and legs start to tingle with a combination of general discomfort from my sitting position, fear, and more fear. i also thought i'd lose my sneakers in the air and kill some unfortunate person down below. i hold on to the hand grip with my right hand envisioning some grave mishap where i just fall out of the plane by accident and tried to look away from the open door, just a few feet in front of me on my left as the plane climbed higher and higher. "we'll be up in another 5 minutes," he says. and i thought, 5 minutes is an eternity, get me out now! luckily, my tandem, Mike has almost 7500 jumps under his belt and knows how to distract newbie jumpers. he pointed out the sights, "hey, there's UConn, there's Springfield, Mass., there's Harftord, and on a clear day you can see Manhattan." i say a combination of, "wow, that's cool, wow, awesome, so cool," in an effort to SEEM calm because god forbid I show fear. i even tried asking questions. my hands are clamming up and it's cold but we finally get to 10,500ft and move ourselves toward the door, i have to toss my legs over and the wind takes them to the right. i think my heart is about to jump out of my chest. he makes some final adjustments on the straps, i feel like my breath is being taken away (cue the song) and out we go. i do my best to keep my back arched and legs back as we practiced. but i don't really think i breathed at all during the free fall, the wind was hitting my face, i felt it contorting, my mind was racing at the speed of the free fall (about 140 mph i think)if not faster but it moved so quickly i had no idea what thoughts they were. i don't even recall seeing anything. mike said that i should look up and try to find the plane in my vision to get a sense of how quickly we were falling away but i couldn't. and then it was over, the parachute came out, i don't think i even had time to scream/yell. (the first time i jumped, in Interlaken, i distinctly remember yelling for most of the free fall.) after we started floating around that i start yelling a combination of, "ahhhhh! that's awesome! ahhhh! wooohooo! ahhhhh!" mike asks me how i feel and i say it was great. we do a few intense spins and twirls, he lets me steer a bit and a few minutes later we get back to solid ground. i don't know if this is the case for most people who skydive but for me, it's the anticipation, the flight up, and the free fall that make it all worthwhile.

i find myself to be a fairly calm and mellow person and perhaps that's why i like to do things that stimulate my senses. the added bonus was how this entire event came to be.i mean, it's not like we're all best friends from elementary school who made a pact to do this at a certain age. it was completely random.

now, i have a feeling girls night will be an institution to be reckoned with.

whats up party people?

tomorrow i will jump out of an airplane. what, you say? Barb you're crazy. why would you want to do that?

because it's fun dammit. the fear, rush, and adrenaline of jumping out of a plane is unparalleled. UNPARALLELED. it's only about 45 seconds but it may just be the best 45 seconds after you-know-what (hint, it starts with an 's' and ends with an 'x'). but plenty of people think i'm crazy already, might as well support the rep right?

in other news, as of 5pm today i am once again professionally unemployed. never fear dear fans, i'm a-okay, my freelance gig was up. time to find another that's all. plus the weather couldn't be more perfect for some time off. you say, but Barb you just went to Maui why do you need time off? you'd be right to ask but i'm also young and time's a wastin' if you ask me. i gotta see see see what's out there. so as i mentioned in my last post, i think i really may do that road trip down the east coast. if you've got a buddy, grandmother, candlestick maker friend that needs some Bahooba! in their life, lemme know.

of course, i also need to be rational and practical so if ya'll hear whisperings of any web editor positions, do pass them along. Bahooba! would really appreciate it. though considering i've been referring to myself in the 3rd person and also plan on jumping out of an airplane tomorrow, future employers may consider me clinically insane but hey, can't hurt putting it out there right?

in any case, that's the latest with me. oh wait, that's a lie, i've also been catching up on music and as expected, Madge's album doesn't live up to the Confessions legacy. boo.

anyway, if ya'll are so inclined, i'll be around so feel free to give me a call so we can hang out bc as of now, i'm a professionally unemployed two-hand touch football player so i've got some time.

because everything happens for a reason,

barbara aka wanderlust huber

Lately

I just spent a week in Maui, completely unplanned and I have to say it was quite fantastical. the sheer variety of flora and fauna that exists there (and that I'd never seen elsewhere) is spectacular. The colors were vivid. The weather was hot but not too humid. we stayed in a fully equipped 7 bdrm beachfront house. i mean, what else could you ask for? admittedly, i snuck in on this trip. i got a last minute invite and made it happen. but i'm really glad i made it. i learned to kayak and kinda love it. i jogged barefoot on the beach and kinda loved that too. i mean, these are the things i never really got to do as a city kid that never went to camp so it was nice. i'm glad i can get to do these things now. oh, and i'm skydiving on the 26th for the second time. it's so very exciting.

in other news, my current permalance gig is coming to an end in less than two weeks and i think it might be fun to drive down the east coast and just stop wherever we like. that way, we wont have to deal with flights, which are all a complete mess right now, and we can go at our leisure. i've not really explored this country as much as i have the rest of the world so perhaps it's time.

Juno

Yes, I just watched it and no, i hadn't seen it yet. I think it's great. I don't think of it in terms of the Oscars or anything like that. It's a great film with heart. She reminds me of me in a way. Especially in her sense of humor. She's always got something to say. I like her name. I like her nickname. I like her dad. And I can empathize with her want of 'perfection' in the adoptive couple. I like that it wasn't about how teenage pregnancy can tear a family apart, but rather about how perhaps those who get pregnant at that age maybe be irresponsible but are not complete idiots when it comes to life. I like that it was about mac and cheese. I like that while it marginalizes dorkdom, it doesn't make it bad. At the core, the movie is about judgement or rather the lack of it. People going through life floating in and out of 'protocol' as they see fit. Because really, we don't need protocols. Really, we look to protocols more for precedent than anything else. Really, we just want a guide, a map, something that tells us how we 'should' react and do things because sometimes it's just easier that way. Especially when it's something we haven't experienced personally. There's nothing wrong with that. I think as long as you give yourself the freedom to veer off protocol as you see fit when you need it it's fine, i mean, having a map on hand has never hurt has it? Just don't think that you have to stick to it. I think it's important to FEEL free to walk down that side street and perhaps explore that alley even if you don't. Nothing is perfect, including maps. Plus I've found it's more fun sometimes when you just go.

What are you?

So I went to this photo exhibit opening last night:

3/10/2008 - 5/30/2008
Solo Exhibition - Part Asian, 100% Hapa (Opening Reception 3/10, 6-8:00 PM) -
Asian/Pacific/American Institute, NYU
212.992.9651
www.seaweedproductions.com

The interest is obvious for me as someone who's half Chinese and half Swiss. But what I did not anticipate was the strange feeling of walking into a room and seeing people that look just like me. I realized at that point that it was something I'd never really felt before. I mean, it can be a hard concept to grasp conceptually. It never occurred to me that this was something that I'd never experienced. After all, while lots of people are ethnically mixed up there aren't very many places where they congregate. It's not like, if you're Chinese and just moved to NY from Hong Kong and you're feeling a little homesick you can head down to Chinatown for a bit of 'home.' Know what I mean? I know I repeated myself over and over to the people I was with and I know they were saying the same, "I've never really been in a room with people that look like me." We kept looking around, mouths slightly ajar, taking it all in. I couldn't stop looking around. People all looked so different yet similar. Some of the pieces on display(all of which had short blurbs written by the subjects about themselves) caused me to laugh out loud. If you haven't seen this exhibit or the book I'd recommend it because there certainly isn't much media out there about being mixed. Not that it's so much different from other ethnic 'experiences,' but it's still another perspective.

It was refreshing to joke about the "What are you?" question all of us mixed folk seem to get. Until that point, I'd never really encounter groups of other people who were the targets of that very same question I personally get on a regular basis. So to counter the joke it just became the first thing we discovered about each other with each new person we met. I dunno, it was an interesting bit of time. I'm sure most people take it for granted to look out into a sea of people and see lots of physical similarities but now I know that I've never really had that but I never noticed it until I did have it. It's not some 'boo hoo' thing at all, I like looking different, being different, being hard to pinpoint/label. It's an observation that I wanted to share because it blew my mind a bit. Ain't no lie...

Danes and romantic comedies

Am watching Notting Hill, also read the results of a study today that claims that Danes are the happiest people because they have low (or next to no) expectations which made me think:

'Why do people love romantic comedies?'

Some say that romantic comedies build up expectations of what relationships should be in reality and then to read about the abstract of the study made me think:

'Is ignorance really bliss?'

Isn't that what adults say about children? They're happy because they are clean slates, unaffected, and any other word(s) you'd care to insert here? Now I'm not saying bollocks (remember that I'm watching Notting Hill) to biology and evolution, after all, we develop as we do for a reason. But is it possible perhaps that what works for babies and young children may not be the best for adults? Is that an unfair statement? 'Unfair' is relative. All I can base my thoughts on are my experience and in my experience I know I like romantic comedies because they make me laugh, they leave me feeling happy, and they make me aspire. I don't see anything wrong with aspiration, I mean, we are human beings what's wrong with believing that the stuff of novels and movies is possible? Why is it so outlandish to some and daily life for others?

'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.' - FDR

Is it more that we don't believe that we can recover from a failed relationship? Perhaps. Or the fear of failed relationships? Because aren't there just as many novels and movies out there that preach that particular gospel? The Romeo & Juliet stories are just as valid I guess. Undoubtedly it's a justified fear but I think it's a matter of your perspective and experience which path you subscribe to. I think for myself... I know better than to fall victim to fear perhaps because I've felt what I imagine to be the worse of the worse. And on the flipside, if you've felt it, how can you settle for anything less?

'I'm also a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.'

letters

I work in interactive media, maintain a blog, and e-mail with the best of them yet I just felt the impulse to write a few letters. What are they? You ask. Once upon a time, people wrote what they felt about each other or even about their daily lives with a pen and paper. Mailed it. Then a few days later, it would be gleefully received. I remember, when I was 'yey' (cue: hand gesture mimicking a child's height) I remember always looking forward to getting letters in the mail. Of course, most children, love getting mail. It's a right of passage to being an adult. Even now, I ALWAYS get the mail, and sometimes between the letters from the Binghamton Alumni Association asking me for money, the notices that I've won millions of dollars, or the 5 Victoria's Secret catalogues I seem to get in one shot, I receive the occasional handwritten note and they are always the first to be opened.

I recognize that there's an irony to blogging about letter writing but it's a different method of interaction between two people that has gone the way of the horse and carriage. There's something very personal and thoughtful about letters. If you know me, you know that I despise greeting cards and it's not because I'm a scrooge who doesn't like to express their feelings. On the contrary I think greeting cards are generic because they express a pre-written, reprinted, fabricated-by-someone-in-a-cubicle-that's-not-you (btw, I work in a cubicle) sentiment. Then someone just signs their name to it and hands it off to you. Believe me, I get that this person has taken time out of their day to go out and purchase a card to give. I appreciate that. I do. And let me clarify that I have no issues with people who send greeting cards and actually write a thoughtful sentiment in it. Does that make sense? I find cards void of text other than a signature a great waste of paper. Thank you cards and Christmas cards are exempt from this rule since sheer volume prohibits excessive creativity. In any case, I was inspired by a book I excerpted for work about how to write love letters, to jot down a few thoughts to close friends and hope it brightens their day when they receive it. Hence this diatribe.

it happened this week

it has been an interesting week indeed. heath ledger died, people celebrated their birthdays, and i continue to be disturbed by the radical church planning to protest ledger's funeral bc he played gay in Brokeback Mountain. what? now, actors can't even play gay? i recognize that this 'church' is in the minority, at least i hope so, but it puts a major damper on my faith in humanity when people get this crazy. okay, i get it, gay is bad. gay is anti-bible. gay is likely the culmination of everything bad in humanity. what else? feel free to add on.

i think it's a need to blame, a need to point fingers, that makes these radicals find fault in others. after all, global warming is obviously caused by gay people, as is starvation in africa, the war in iraq, osama bin laden, and the reason i like my saturday morning spin class. this last one is true, because my instructor is so awesome. but i digress. i think humans are programmed to think in terms of boxes. everything needs to fit in a box and be assigned a label, categorized, itemized, lather, rinse, repeat. when things don't fit into those boxes for whatever reason, someone needs to be blamed because something has obviously gone horribly awry. but why? why does not fitting = wrong? can we not expand our minds to think that there are other ways to live? other methods of thought? other ways to be happy? things that may not fit into our conventional boxes. new things are discovered all the time, products are improved, there's a 3lb laptop for christs' sake, modern aviation, the Smart car, i mean really. can it be a fear of the new/different if we embrace 'new' in so many other arenas? are we going to hate on the 3lb laptop bc it's different? bc it's not the 10lb laptop (or dare i say, desktop) that we own? why is it so scary to some? is it bc they're afraid they wont fit into a society that includes the new/different? perhaps. perhaps, they fear becoming the minority if this new/different catches on. (again, not to say that they're in the majority now) why is it bad to be in the minority? because that makes them different from the majority. how silly. how stupid. how obtuse. are we in the 2nd grade? i think 2nd graders may be more evolved. all this bc heath ledger played gay. if you're gonna protest someone's funeral for gayness at least pick someone that actually was gay. geezus. they can't even get that right. dumasses. damn minorities...

here's the actual story:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22813570/

A Narrator?

Still reading "Love in the Time of Cholera," and came across this sentence that intrigues me:

'As a kind of compensation from fate, it was also in the mule-drawn trolley that Florentino Ariza met Leona Cassiani, who was the true woman in his life although neither of them ever knew it and they never made love. He had sensed her before he saw her as he was going home on the trolley at five o'clock; it was a tangible look that touched him as if it were a finger. He raised his eyes and saw her, at the far end of the trolley, but standing out with great clarity from the other passengers. She did not look away. on the contrary: she continues to look at him with such boldness that he could not help thinking what he thought: black, young, pretty, but a whore beyond the shadow of a doubt. He rejected her from his life, because he could not conceive of anything more contemptible than paying for love: he had never done it.'

Firstly, I started only typing out the first sentence of the quote above but was so throughly enraptured by the resulting description that I had to copy the rest of the paragraph. Is there an omniscient narrator out there narrating all our stories? Is there an entity out there that has all our lives mapped out in front of them? I think so. I just hope not to ever be in Florentino's position...ever and if I were to end up there I think I'd rather not know.

Honestly I don't know why I picked this book up at Target back in December but I haven't read quote unquote literature in quite some time and I think this book prompts me to get back into it. To me there are some things that can only be described just so. Some of the complexities, floral, and ethereal qualities of language have been lost in time and perhaps it's only in reading, again, quote unquote great works (on who's invisible list?) that allow me to understand things and think about them in different lights. And isn't it in pondering things, circumstances, and life in general through different lenses and varying angles that make us as diverse and multifaceted as we are? It's our experiences that shape us but if we are limited in experience for whatever reason why not see what other possibilities and perspectives there are out there in the words of an artfully written novel?

I think one of the main things I like about this particular book is that you know the end before you know the beginning. Marquez tells you exactly how the love story ends within the first fifty pages. It freed me from rushing to get to the end to find out how the love story turns out. Do they end up together? Don't they? What happens? Instead I'm left to linger over the actual story for the remaining pages. I don't need to gloss or skim because I really do want to know how it all transpired. How it all came to be. How it all got so incredibly twisted.

Other choice quotes:

'Lionlady of my soul'
'"That may be the reason he does so many things," she said, "so that he will not have to think."'
'No: he would never reveal it, not even to Leona Cassiani, not because he did not want to open the chest where he had kept it so carefully hidden for half his life, but because he realized only then that he had lost the key.'
'She would defend herself, saying that love, no matter what else it might be, was a natural talent. She would say: "You are either born knowing how, or you never know."'
'She was yesterday's flower.'

bored

I've never been so bored. i hate being sick but who doesn't? in the meantime, i'd like to ponder why it is that i know there are so many things i could be doing with this time yet i refuse to do it? thoughts?

So I watched Almodovar's "Talk to Her" yesterday and I have to say that I love him. He may be the only person who can make one feel empathy for a rapist. It is, without a doubt, a twisted story. A man essentially falls in love with a comatose woman. He knew very little about her before she feel into coma and I think he kinda makes up the rest along the way. What's interesting is the ability of the mind to not only make stuff up but for the person to then believe it. Wholeheartedly. Tricky thing that mind. Tricky tricky. it's an amazing thing.

in other news, i was just re-reading a bday card i received from a dear dear friend and i thought i'd share:

"Barb, this year I wish you more love in your live. It's not to say that you need more joy & love from friends & family because you will always have that forever without a doubt. I wish for you a kind of love that makes you flutter, a love that makes you cry, a love that makes you angelic and fly high."

i fear that this is a common sentiment among my friends about me. fear not dear friends. this is the one arena in life where i have patience. all good things come to those who wait.

An exercise in self-medication

That is my challenge today. Chicken broth, grapefruit, pineapple, ginger tea, honey and no dairy products. Will it help me with this mysterious malady? I'm not sure if it's a cold combined with soreness from the gym or the flu which comes with it's own soreness. Who the hell knows. We'll see how i feel at the end of the day.

Sympathy Pains

Do you believe in it? I think I do. My mood changes as the people close to me go through ups and downs. Is that bad? I don't know. I do know that after I spoke with J in her anxiety ridden mode last night, I slept horribly and have had a cloud over my head until I spoke to M this afternoon who told me that J was doing better as of this morning. Then I just spoke to J myself and I feel almost normal, except for the Nyquil from last night that has me in a fog. Hopefully coffee will cure that. It makes sense to me to be affected by the emotions of those closest to you, if you're that connected it's bound to happen. I worry for them, with them.

I went to yoga this morning for the first time in ages and vowed to go regularly once again bc i was completely inflexible. Completely. Not as smooth as I used to be and I attribute it to lack of practice, so if i were to make a resolution which I don't normally, I'd say it is to go back to regular yoga practice every week.

Lets see if i can keep to it.

We are eggs

So it's the new year. I got back from 8 days in Miami (actually Hollywood, FL) this past Wednesday. What's that you say? A tough life? I know. I know. But I help make these trips happen so I deserve it. :) In any case the first 4 days were entirely relaxing, just lazing about from beach to pool to beach. But before you get green with envy I'd like to also say that I had a bit of a mental collapse. Not as dramatic as it sounds but I think I just cracked. I had a stressful week just before Christmas but really it was just me choosing to take the world on my shoulders, as is my nature. And so I snapped. I started crying. Crying. Yes. Crying. And it felt good. One of my other issues is that I don't like feeling week. Not the same as feeling vulnerable because I don't believe I have that problem. But I don't enjoy feeling that I'm not in full control or visibly showing that things do affect me. I'm not quite sure how to explain it but I do know that I was lucky to have someone there to talk me out of it. To tell me it's okay to cry and to not be the one taking care of someone else all the time. To let someone take care of me. It felt good. I know that I have to let other people take charge sometimes but I also have a fear of disappointment and abandonment so if I give those people a chance to care...and they don't I will feel all of the aforementioned things that scare me. Perhaps that's why I try so hard as a person. I want to show people that I deserve it because I've demonstrated as much to them. And so here I am. Writing this post. Pondering a quote that I recently read in "Love in the Time of Cholera:"

'She would not shed a tear, she would not waste the rest of her years simmering in the maggot broth of memory, she would not bury herself alive inside these four walls to sew her shroud, as native widows were expected to do...she would go on living as she always had, without complaining, in the death trap of the poor where she had been happy.'

Why did I feel compelled to jot this quote down?

The first reason is that I really appreciate the level of description: 'The maggot broth of memory?' Who writes that? Gabriel Garcia Marquez did and it's the ability to strike people. To make them feel things through words. This is why I do what I do. While memory is but rarely a maggot broth, it sometimes can be the thing that holds you back. Because it is memory of feeling like a disappointment, feeling like i was abandoned that makes me who I am now. But who am I to question the person I've become? On a normal day, it's awesome and it all works so this is just a vent. A bit of self-reflection as I am also prone to do. It's the things that happen to us, the things that happen around us and between us. The things we go through, the good, the bad, and all the gray area in the middle, that makes us who we are. So we crack like an egg once in awhile. We're human. It's okay.

Thanks to twins one and two who took shifts babysitting me. :)