| Hello? |
[16 Nov 2009|12:48pm] |
ROLL CALL!
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| Late twenties. |
[16 Nov 2009|02:39am] |
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fly me to the moon |
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The majority of my twenty somethings consisted of figuring out what I want. I spent the last seven years going through the motions on setting the standards on the quality of shoes, clothing, music, food, friends, men, et cetera. Granted that finding what we truly want can be an ever changing status, I feel that I've weeded through enough undesirables, by trials and errs of all humbling methods, to come to terms of what I want to have and keep in my life.
Now with what I consider a better head on my shoulders knowing what I want, I find that I am looking inwards rather than at others. I am asking less of "is this something / someone I want in my life" and more of "is this something I want to be in the lives of others." I have also accepted that I have to be judgmental, sometimes in the most negative fashion, as long as I can take from such judgments a positive note and apply it to my inspiration in being a more desirable person. This mentality is opening up new doors and avenues, as well as closing some in the process.
I am glad to say that looking deeper has humbled me more than ever, but I remain inspired, hopeful that this will result in me being a lovelier person in the long run. After all, beauty is only skin deep, and I'm not getting any younger.
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[16 Nov 2009|01:02am] |
actually reminds me a lot of marion b, but i like it her work, so...*shrug*
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[16 Nov 2009|02:15am] |
Oh yes, tweets.
Regurgitated courtesy of LoudTwitter
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[16 Nov 2009|12:02am] |
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Automatically posted by LoudTwitter
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[15 Nov 2009|12:59am] |
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mood |
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 mint tea |
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puscifer & mono |
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 for each ecstatic instant
we must an an anguish pay
in keen and quivering ratio
to the ecstasy.
for each beloved hour
sharp pittances of years,
bitter contested farthings
and coffers heaped with tears.
- emily dickinson - there was an ever-growing void she filled with the hearts of men, but this creature has grown weary of the strangers scavenging her carcass. she has spent her life poaching these organs, prodding and dissecting to learn, to understand and to live ecstatically on the blissful cloud of rapture. o eros, thou hast struck me with thy needled arrow!
as a little blood trickles out, the plunger catches, and thrusts euphoria in. her veins drink this poison deeply. "it's bliss," her cracked lips whisper, "the only way to live," she sighs. her heart is a factory stamping, pushing, pumping through her sternum, and her pupils are black holes, squealing back like car tires, screaming into her skull. she lays back and spreads her legs wide for death to spill out.
only way to live.
she smiles and greets each new guest to le boudoir de la petite mort with red lips and a hungry smile. she claws their backs, scratching for the precious gems caged within their ribs. she aches for their rhythm. she sings for liquid gold. and when she kicks them out, she burns a little corner of her beating heart with a long, steel brander, to cauterize the wound that re-opens with each affair.
and with this small pile of ashes, she learns to fill the void by eating the dust, tongue choking on the taste of what has become. with each bitter, sober swallow, she relives each rendezvous, each selfishly stolen heart, and bids her monster, this beautiful addiction, adieu.
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[15 Nov 2009|02:15am] |
Oh yes, tweets.
Regurgitated courtesy of LoudTwitter
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[15 Nov 2009|01:01am] |
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Automatically shipped by LoudTwitter
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| Recap of a fabulous week in Los Angeles, CA (Day #3: November 8, 2009) |
[14 Nov 2009|06:10pm] |
For the second time during my vacation, I woke to an alarm. This time it was a little 'late' (6:30am) which helped to recover from the residual jet lag. In order to extend my stay in Santa Monica, I wanted to return to the hostel as early as possible to re-book my room. Once that was taken care of, my mind was at ease and I went to the beach with D to play frisbee. We parked illegally and felt that remaining within a reasonable distance to the car could help (as though while the ticket was being written we could somehow turn back the clock and move the car, leaving the meter maid scratching his/her head in bewilderment.) In order to make the game more active than a standard two-person frisbee toss, I decided that running in a circle would help. So I'd catch, run, throw, and David good naturedly played along. After a rigorous cycle of landing on my knees after each throw and on my belly for every-other-catch, we took a nice thirty minute run along the water's edge. I was enchanted by the beautiful birds and engaged in a fierce custody battle over my left foot (it was me versus the sand). I sort of wish the outcome had been different.
By the end, D and I were sweaty and slick with heaving chests, so logically the next activity included buying boba smoothies and taking a walk along Ocean Avenue. We took a picture of ourselves near the pier on D's phone and sent it to Alisha.. we wish you were here, the text read. We meant it.
After playing in the sand, I needed to take a shower and dress professionally in preparation for the opening ceremonies for the AAPS - American Association of Pharmaceutical Scientists - Conference (the reason that I was visiting California in the first place.) This took between 40 minutes and an hour during which David played the piano and sang. It was gorgeous. D and I had Indian food for lunch and he gave me a ride to the conference center (downtown LA, 12-15 miles away.) Originally I was going to take the bus, but was running a bit late after lunch and didn't want to risk missing the free way bus and getting stuck for 2.5 hours on a local line.
I was an hour early but come to find out, was not rewarded for my promptness because I did not sit in the appropriate place therefore was not taken back stage to be brought out for the presentation of awards. It was a bit ironic because when the "AFPE Gateway to Research Scholarship Winners" were recognized, my name was the only one that showed up on the big monitors but three people who were not me and whose names were absent stepped forward. Oh well, I received my certificate at a later time and missed the photograph. I emailed Dr. Straubinger (my adviser) and was excessively apologetic -- I also caught up with other UB faculty members who were present and found that they were more concerned that I had been in the audience (as opposed to having gotten lost or attacked on the way, as two of the faculty members had given me their phone numbers in case I "got in trouble" since I was the only student who was staying at a non-conference hotel.) I was thankful that no one was angry or disappointed.
Despite the name of the organization, its membership includes many international pharmaceutical scientists and research firms. As a result, there were more than 5,000 people attending including vendors from all over the world. The opening reception featured a live brass band which completely overwhelmed the crowd (trying to have a conversation with your left ear while trumpets and French horns are blaring in your right is rather difficult.) I managed to swap numbers with a few for purposes of joint sight seeing/hanging out later in the week. The food was not terribly "pescetarian"-friendly, but I managed to find some spring rolls so it was a good night. The Indian lunch was enough to sustain me through the afternoon and evening to be honest.
I left the reception around 7 and visited a bodega in Santa Monica to purchase fresh fruit for breakfast. After that I studied for my kinetics exam and went to bed. It seemed unbelievable that my trip was already halfway over.
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| Recap of a fabulous week in Los Angeles, CA (Day #2: November 7, 2009) |
[14 Nov 2009|12:08pm] |
I woke to my alarm at 5am, ate a blueberry crisp Clif Bar and valencia orange, laced up my running shoes, and ventured 0.1 miles north to the beach. I ran into a group of runners who asked where I was from and if I was training that day. Come to find out, they were part of a marathon training group! I talked to them about the best routes but politely declined an invitation to join their session -- the slower heat had left around 4:45am and I was not fast enough to run with the group that was currently accumulating. I set off on my own and was surprised at the number of people who had beat me to the beach/pier. In college, I am the overachiever crazy-person who wakes up at 5am to exercise. Here, I was merely one of the pack of people who did this, but not the earliest or "craziest." This leads me to one of the things that I loved most about California -- how active everyone seemed to be! I saw some very creative forms of exercise; men using "low" (6-6.5 foot) projections near the base of telephone poles to do military pull-ups, massive groups running and biking with purpose. It was a really invigorating environment and something that I wish I had in Buffalo. It's also possible that these groups exist and I am unaware of them. A little Internet research is in order.
After my run, I returned to the beach for about an hour to take pictures and splash in the water. I returned to the room to find Lenora (my Argentinian dinner date from the night before) freshly showered and ready for breakfast, so we went together. There we met Habib (sp?) -- a German and Tunisian man living in the UK who was considering moving to California for the climate. He had very friendly eyes and super-curly hair, a very nice breakfast companion indeed.
Breakfast Part II for me consisted of a cup of coffee which I gulped down before hastily researching all of the places that I wanted to visit. By 10am, David was waiting in the lobby to pick me up. He and I had never met before, but we share a common best friend: Alisha (lives in Portland, OR, have not seen her since she visited Buffalo nearly two years ago :( ). D and I found that we were freakishly comfortable with one another. We were able to slip nto very fluid conversations instantly, and a few times we even said the same 6-10 word phrases in perfect unison and were able to connect in a very philosophical, intellectual way. I can't explain it any differently.
The first thing we did was drive out to Hacienda Heights to see the Hsi Lai Temple (Buddhist temple designed after the ones in China and Thailand. Fifteen acres of immaculate gardens and shrines.) I could say that it was magnificent, awe-inspiring, beautiful, amazing, and all of these things would be true but even cumulatively, they do not capture the beauty of this place. We happened to arrive during a ceremony in the main shrine which consisted of incense burning, choreographed candle lighting at the alter, and intense chanting. Afterward the monks and congregation solemnly paraded from the main shrine to an adjacent music hall where worship resumed.
After perusing the gardens, D and I made a $1 donation to the museum and entered to view beautiful art -- sculptures, prayer beads, paintings, and more. Some had been donated from temples in Asia and the rest was created by Hsi Lai "parishoners." It was very peaceful and beautiful. D and I felt that we were on the docent's bad side because she banged on the glass to tell us not to take pictures (there wasn't any signage saying that you couldn't and the person who greeted us said that photos were allowed everywhere except the main shrine.) Upon exiting, we wanted to show our reverence/sincere apology. That plan was thwarted, however. Three children under the age of ten (assumably 'belonging' to the docent) were crowded around a laptop looking at a Powerpoint presentation. A 7 or 8 year-old boy said, "Yeah, this stuff is for a poster that I made for school. Some other kid copied me and I got pissed so I beat him up." He said the last part very passionately and the other two children nodded as if to say Good for you, I would've done the exact same thing. This scene was perfectly juxtaposed against the peaceful, reverent atmosphere of the museum and I laughed. Oh God, I must have appeared so obnoxious!
After leaving the museum, we discovered a dining hall where a vegan buffet was served for a nominal donation. Of course we decided to take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. D was, without a doubt, the tallest, whitest person in the hall! Warm buns with red bean paste and vanilla custard were polished off for dessert and then we hit the road again. Destination: Will Rogers State Park to meet up with Brandi! It was already nearing 3pm, leaving us with about two hours of daylight. We went on a short hike around the mountains with a gallon of water, a bottle of merlot (no glasses; we just passed the bottle like pirates), a botte of Jameson (I didn't touch that bad boy), and a frisbee. Of course I was wearing a dress, but I brought sneakers "just in case." The hike was really interesting because in the beginning we were surrounded by deep canyons and pastures with grazing horses, but the terrain changed substantially as we went along. Within 30 minutes, we enjoyed a beautiful view of the Los Angeles skyline, and another view gave us views of the beach on the other side of the mountain. Not bad for a short, two-hour adventure that was interrupted with picture taking, laughter, and general debauchery. We met a well-to-do lady and her dog who permitted me to take their picture. I was busy talking to every dog/horse/other animal that we ran into. ( And again, I was impressed at how natural it was for me to hang out with Brandi, and for the trio of us to hang out together. It was pretty magical. It felt like I was having some sort of reunion with old friends that I haven't seen in years instead of people who I was barely acquainted with and who had only met through me. )
After the park, we went down to the beach. About 30 surfers stayed past sunset to ride the waves in the dark. David brought a guitar, Brandi carried a blanket, and I brought my camera. We didn't stay long enough to use the blanket and I was the only one who would go into the cold Pacific without a wet suit but God it felt glorious being in the ocean, any ocean, a week and a half before Thanksgiving. There's no time like NOWvember.
All of that scrambling around left us with monster-sized appetites so we went to Kuma sushi with David's high school friend Jillian. The party continued at apartment with an amazing live concert in the living room. Her boyfriend Alex came home, we shook hands and had a brief introduction, and again, jet lag set in and I was down-for-the-count by 11:30 pm. Since D was no longer capable of driving me home, we slept adjacent to one another on the floor. I was curled in a sleeping bag and the last thing I remember was my eyelashes fluttering and thinking to myself, "This is the life. I am not going to switch to the Hollywood hostel, after all. I am going to stay in Santa Monica."
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| Recap of a fabulous week in Los Angeles, CA (Day #1: November 6, 2009) |
[14 Nov 2009|09:33am] |
This is it! It is time to savor my reward after a week of completely disrupting my circadian rhythm in order to take four exams one week early. I am going to spend six days in Los Angeles; the first two will be spent in Santa Monica and the next will be in downtown L.A. (accommodations in Hollywood.) This is my first time flying by myself -- and traveling myself at all and going to the west coast, actually. The prospect is exciting but also a bit stressful. I know that I am perfectly capable of entertaining myself and managing my schedule, but I am worried about my lack of street smarts.
I "slept in" until 4am and finished my therapeutics and pharmacology exams by 10:30am. At that point, all I had to do was run through my list of things to pack and make sure that I wasn't leaving anything behind. Teresa was kind enough to make a stop at Amy's for lunch before taking me to the airport.
After my exams, I threw down my books & binders ... v a c a t i o n h a s (had) b e g u n !!
I was fortunate enough to secure a window seat which gave me a safe place to lean for my 4-hour nap (the first leg of the flight -- Buffalo, NY, to Phoenix, AZ -- was only 4.5 hours long but I needed the rest). For the remaining half hour, I was shaking off the grogginess and trying to get my ears to pop while admiring the vast, varied terrain below. It is so interesting to see mountains and water and condominiums and swimming pools from above. We landed in Arizona around 4:10pm PST and had a few minutes to stretch our legs before moving forward. The sun set around 5 and we were off to Los Angeles!
Disembarking from the plane for the second (and last) time felt good. On the way to the baggage carousel, I turned on my Blackberry to discover that "No network can be detected." I saw a few other Blackberry owners using their phones and politely asked if Verizon was their carrier and if they had service. I heard the combination of responses that I dreaded, yes and yes. But, first thing's first first: claim baggage, and after that worry about your phone. My pharmacokinetics professor was on the same flight, so after we snagged our suitcases he allowed me to make two phone calls to alert my friends about my technological difficulties. After 30 minutes of sweating bullets while speaking to a dreadfully patient technical support representative, I was able to get my phone up and running again. Okay, now I'm off for real -- out of the airport and into the fire.
I felt like I woke up in a Death Cab For Cutie song -- specifically "Why you want to live here?" or "405." While waiting for The Big Blue Bus, I met a thin Asian girl named Bianca who was incredibly talkative and had a suitcase that weighed nearly as much as she did (80 lbs. is very big for a suitcase, but not a person, I guess.) She said that she had just competed in the preliminary stages of the Miss Hollywood pageant. I congratulated her and our friendly chatter continued for a few more minutes and somehow she managed to finagle my number from me. "I will call you if I ever need anything in New York!" she said as she boarded her bus. Within five minutes, she called and left a voice mail reminding me of her name and inviting me to "call her if I needed anything." I got a bit of a chuckle out of this. (No, I have not, nor do I intend to call her back.)
I made it to the hostel in Santa Monica (between the 3rd Street Promenade and the Pier) and found a very safe, busy neighborhood. I settled into my room with a growling belly. Just by asking, "Who hasn't eaten dinner yet?" I managed to recruit two dinner companions -- Melanie from Sydney, Australia, and Lorena from Buenos Aires, Argentina. We decided on a Thai Restaurant called Buddha's Belly where we had a delicious meal and a few drinks. Lorena and I each ordered a muddled mai thai (three shots of rum, orange & pineapple juice, crushed strawberries) and Mel chose a lychee martini. When the drinks were served, I naturally reached across the table and clinked glasses with Lorena, and there were cheers all around. The last two to clink glasses were Lorena and Mel. Mel was looking at me while reaching out her drink and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lorena pulling her hand away. "You must look at me," she said. Mel and I must have appeared completely confused because Lorena quickly explained, "In Hispanic culture, not making eye contact when giving cheers means seven years of bad sex. Kristin had the right idea, she was staring right at me," and we erupted in laughter.
After dinner, Mel and Lorena walked me to the Santa Monica Pier (a stone's throw from the hostel and restaurant.) We took our time strolling, checking out the Cirque de Soleil tents and taking pictures of the brightly lit ferris wheel. Vendors were selling ice cream and sarongs that can fold into 110 "unique" garments, tourists were passing on tandem bicycles ... the Pier was surprisingly alive for what Californians consider to be a "chilly" night (in the 50s/60s.)
By 11:30 PM, I was in bed, dead-tired and jet-lagged.
( pictures from the streets of Santa Monica on a Friday night )
I could not get over how beautiful the ferris wheel was! In some of the pictures, I managed to include the moon. This, however, is the only one in which I captured the geometric heart ... and therefore it's my favorite.
Note: I was in LA for six days. I will recap each day with text and photos... so expect a surge of LJ activity over the course of the next few days! (Sorry for flooding your friends' pages but there's a good chance I'll disappear for a while after that ;/ )
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[14 Nov 2009|07:08pm] |
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dear dad,
take a pill. a chill pill. every time i try to have a conversation with you, you blow everything out of proportion with your misguided weirdness. it hurts my feelings that all i want to do is talk to you and all YOU want to do is tell me how i'm living my life all wrong.
you say you only want what's best for me, and that every lesson you give me is for my own good but really it's just your mean streak cloaked in serious over-parenting.
all i wanted to do is stay in on a saturday night so i can spend more time with you and mom and this is what i get. thanks a lot.
signed,
your daughter who's seriously hurting right now.
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[14 Nov 2009|02:15am] |
Oh yes, tweets.
Regurgitated courtesy of LoudTwitter
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[14 Nov 2009|12:01am] |
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Automatically posted by LoudTwitter
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| Won't Someone Think Of The Children? |
[13 Nov 2009|05:34pm] |
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music |
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Wings Of Fire - The Rods |
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This week, a place in Brooklyn had a .40¢ cent chicken wings promotion. Apparently teenagers there liked it so much that they did what any normal teen does when provided with an inexpensive after-school snack—they shot and stabbed each other.
At least this time guns weren't blamed for the stupid actions of people. The blame was put squarely where it belongs—on the restaurant. Wait, what?!
"Earlier this week, Councilwoman Letitia James blasted the place for promoting its 40-cent “Wing Tuesdays” to students, telling the Brooklyn Paper, "We got to do something about Wild Wings. I want this Tuesday restaurant promotion stopped, or the lease of this business revoked."
Thank you Councilwoman James, for having the courage to stand up against Wild Wings and their Chicken Mind Control Technology™ that turns young scholars full of promise into depraved murderers.
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