Hooray, I'm possibly on my way to becoming a whole person

I am literally on top of the world right now. Not exaggerating. I am not at all inside it (if we consider the earth, not including the atmosphere around it, to be the world), but on top of it, on the surface, actually 3 stories about the surface (and on a hill!). Take that, people living in the basement.

I haven't felt this great in a while. I am happy even though I am not deluding myself into thinking this feeling will last. It's cool if I feel less great later, as I am now reminded that of the possibilities... I'd call it a high, but the great thing about my current state is that it is not drug induced (though wine may have had a slight influence... but that was hours ago).

Thanks Cranna and others, I may finally be moving forward to whole personhood. I've always wanted to be a worthwhile human being.

Maybe one...

Flargh! Life sucks and then you die! Nobody loves me! I wish I was never born! I'm always going to be alone!

Ugh, it all sounds so trite. Stupid emotions, failing at originality, producing only platitudes....no matter how true they are.

Still, I do feel like not much good has come from this blog. I thought it would make me feel less alone, but despite this opportunity to purge stupid thoughts, I still feel about as odd, misunderstood, unable to relate and connect as ever. There is only one thing that this blog produced, but if that friendship lasts I suppose that's more than one has any right to expect from a blog.

Blargh and fuck corporate restaurants.

P.S. Oh I remember what I was sort of going to write. I just watched the Social Network and seemed to relate to the autistic-like main character to a stupid extent. It also reminded me that I've done nothing with my life and I wish I was cool enough to be in stupid secret clubs and know influential people, but despite no longer working on a farm I am still very much a peasant. If achieving shit is being in the right place at the right time, then I'm screwed because I never go anywhere and I'm always late. Fuck okcupid, too.

New Dorp: the Borough Dork

You know it's bad when I have to start a post with a disclaimer such as this: dear friends, do not take this post too seriously (if you read it at all), as these are all just the afterthoughts of a mad man. I do not consider you commodities or means to an end, unless of course you're one of those extremely disagreeable people I still hang out with on occasion for entirely selfish and utilitarian purposes (but you're probably not one of those).

Ugh, I hate uninspired writing. I wouldn't do this, but my internet wasn't working when I felt more strongly about what I'm about to say, so I had to wait... and I told myself I'd vent here. So here it is:

Staten Island is the fat kid of the boroughs. That isn't to say it is large, because being the fat kid (emphasis on “the”) is not about size, it's about standing out for being different. If boroughs had to go to middle or high school, I'd feel really sorry for S.I. Even the MTA, the butt of most NYC jokes, gets to poke fun at Staten Island, just look at the stops along the metro line (the ONLY line): Tompkinsville, Dongan Hills, New Dorp (really, there's more than one DORP?!), Great Kills (wtf Staten Island?), Huguenot (nah, this one is fine) and finally Tottenville. I like that it starts with a ville and ends with a ville, a real farm boy of a borough (with the obligatory dorping and great killing that farm boys are known for).

But this isn't about Staten Island. I'm just picking on it because I had to distract myself with the MTA Map so as not to think horrible things that I think when I'm not distracting myself (and it just so happens I left my book in a building where I am not welcome). The baleful (inside reference) thoughts I had were about life and friendship and both and neither. I'm tired of having to diversify my portfolio. I know it makes sense to do so when you're investing in the stock market – you don't want to put all of your money into the tech industry because potential great rewards come with great risks. If you put all your savings (say $1,000) in apple when I started college you would have 30 times that now (i.e., $30,000). Of course, if you put into a company that went bankrupt you'd lose all your savings – which is pretty terrible. So, logically, you should have put a part of your money in apple (or some other company that appealed to you), a part in Halliburton or Wal-Mart or McDonald's (or another evil corporation, and yes part of diversifying your portfolio is investing in evil companies – it's a category just like tech or food or finances), and a part in whatever other crap will make you feel secure. The problem with this metaphor, of course, is that with finances it is better to have some level of confidence that your investment will grow by 10% rather than go blindly into a double-or-nothing situation (hyperbole, I am aware). I do not believe, however, that the same can be said of friendship. I am profanely tired of investing (and I apologize if this offends anyone, it is not meant to do so, though I understand how it may be the most vile thing you've read) myself into numerous “friendships” in hopes that one or two of them will grow into something real. I almost used the word “worthwhile”, but I avoided it because I do not want to insult people that I spent time with – I do not want to imply that spending time with you is not worth my while (indeed, my “while” is pretty worthless so hanging out with you is at least as good as anything else I'm likely to do) – I want to be clear about that. What I am saying, I guess, is that I am thoroughly frustrated by my social investments going belly up, and in part I believe I'd be better off if I went socially bankrupt – lost all of my stock, filed chapter 7 or 11i (for imaginary) or whatever, was cleared of all my friendship debt and started fresh. Yet, I am too clever or too stupid/afraid to have that happen. I make sure to befriend new people every so often to keep me company when another shallow friendship inevitably burns out and I have an opening in my social calendar (by the way, that sounds more pretentious than intended – my social calendar is wide open – maybe 3-4 brief engagements a week). Might it not be better if I invest myself completely into one or two relationships? After all, investing all your money in one company does not raise the chances of that company succeeding (unless you're investing billions), but investing all of yourself into something actually increases chances of success. Then again, this is not elementary school and the “best friend forever” scenario I'm painting is coming up more grotesque than I intended...and, actually, quite insane sounding. AH, the ramblings of a mad man.

Perhaps, it's all about my insecurity (justified, mind you). Perhaps I am just tired of being Plan B. Of being second best (if I'm lucky). Of not being good enough. Perhaps I can no longer handle loving more than being loved. And oh I know how pathetic this sounds, it's one of the reasons it's been so long since I posted anything. But I yam what I yam, and writing it out is better than trying to fall asleep with stupid thoughts rushing blood through my temples. Perhaps I'm a fool for thinking that I am “diversifying my portfolio” when in fact I am looking for some real, not finding, but deciding that something is better than nothing and thus trying to piece together something significant from a dozen not-so-significant interactions. Alas, that is an impossible task. Perhaps something is not better than nothing. Perhaps the order of betterness is such: the real thing > nothing > something that isn't the real thing (but you try to pretend it may be?). Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

I am an immature child, am I not? I wouldn't even mind that so much, it's the not knowing that is so irksome.

it's true...alas or "fuck you, liver"

I am a sick man....  I am a spiteful man.  I am an unattractive man.  I believe my liver is diseased.  However, I know nothing at all about my disease, and do not know for certain what ails me.  I don't consult a doctor for it, and never have, though I have a respect for medicine and doctors. Besides, I am extremely superstitious, sufficiently so to respect medicine, anyway (I am well-educated enough not to be superstitious, but I am superstitious).  No, I refuse to consult a doctor from spite.  That you probably will not understand.  Well, I understand it, though.  Of course, I can't explain who it is precisely that I am mortifying in this case by my spite: I am perfectly well aware that I cannot "pay out" the doctors by not consulting them; I know better than anyone that by all this I am only injuring myself and no one else.  But still, if I don't consult a doctor it is from spite. My liver is bad, well--let it get worse!

whoa, proofreading fail

I swear my posts look totally readable when I submit them... but reading back it makes little sense. Sorry.

Talking to Strangers

Preface: This post was supposed to be all about George R. Price, a prominent scientist of the 20th century who was interested in altruism and ended up slitting his throat with a possibly rusty pair of scissors.

--

(Price dedicated the later part of his life to helping the homeless, often inviting homeless people to live in his house. Sometimes, when the people in his house became a distraction, he slept in his office at the Galton Laboratory. He also gave up everything to help alcoholics, as he helped them they stole his belongings causing him to fall into depression.

He was eventually thrown out of his rented house due to a construction project in the area, which made him unhappy because he could no longer provide housing for the homeless. He moved to various squats in the North London area, and became depressed over Christmas, 1974. He later committed suicide in the New Year on the 6th January 1975 using a pair of nail scissors to slash his throat. His body was identified by his close colleague Bill Hamilton.^[10] Friends said he committed suicide because of despondency over his inability to continue helping the homeless.)

--

It kind of turned out a little different, but Price is still present in the shadow throughout my recollections.

My descent into madness...begin:

Slowly but surely I am growing mad (as in insane, not "angry" or the most common NYC usage "many", e.g., 'there's mad white people in Manhattan' actually means that there's a lot of whites, be they mad or not).

I've read that madness sets in slowly, but damn is it ever subtle. Today I decided it would be fun, educational and productive to speak with strangers. I don't mean to ask for directions, I mean to actually start meaningless conversations (that hopefully turn in to something meaningful - because let's face it, you can't actually start a meaningful conversation with a stranger... unless you're both crazy). I've met 4 complete strangers today, and got the sparksnotes to the autobiography of 3. In addition I met 1 stranger connected to a non-stranger and 3 relative strangers (of various positions on the relativity scale, but I have met all 3 of them before).

Let's focus on the complete strangers.

The first stranger was really asking to be talked to... actually quite literally, as I met her on okcupid. So I don't feel I was overstepping my bounds when we met for coffee and I proceeded to talk to her for almost 2 hours. Although I will probably never see her again (I liked her, but she is way too beautiful for me - also our personalities don't necessarily complement each other), I did get quite a lot of information about her life. I don't know that there's much I can do with it, but it was interesting at the time. In any case, this was one of the acceptable stranger-talks, even though going into I knew that chances were slim.

Now, this is where I am actually harassing random people.

I was stuck on the train and there was a guy listening to music across from me. After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep, and failing, I decided to get his attention. Now, there were already plenty of people complaining about the train. Yet I harassed this young man to ask him what he thought about the situation. Then our conversation escalated to where he was going, how he was lazy and didn't want to walk, and I took it further to ask where he lives, what he is doing in New York and so on. I learned he is from New Jersey, but moved to New York (175th, mind you) in October. He sort of has 2, but sort of 3-4, roommates. He used to work in Hoboken but the commute was killer. Now he ....[train noise].... a couple of ...[more train noise].... Which is cool. Well I am proud of myself for not lying about where I live and getting off at his stop. That seems like it could turn stalker-ish very quicky. But I wasn't into that. I was just trying to connect, you know? And I appreciate that he appreciates how difficult it is for teachers. Good bye, almost-Bieber-hair guy. [OK, NOTE, somehow blogger cut out a good portion of this story... I dare not rewrite it, though]

Second complete stranger I harassed started out with an innocent "which way is 1st ave?"... and I swear I didn't intend to go any further. Then, however, I asked for further directions.. perhaps he knew where this restaurant was. Turns out the bastard was going to the same place! It was fucking fate, dudes. I asked him if he was meeting the same people and he said "no". I guess that would be too much (and he agreed). Yet I proceeded to talk. Words would just come out, with very little meaning attached to them. I even mentioned that I am trying this new things where I talk to strangers. He seemed supportive and said it was a good life decision - it builds better communities or something. I didn't realize how crazy that sounded then.

Third notable stranger harassment was aimed at a middle-aged to almost elderly woman (she was in great shape though... sorry I didn't mean for that to sound sexual, I just meant that she wasn't frail just gray-haired) who was accompanied by a much younger man. Again, my body couldn't quite get into the rhythm of the stop-and-go train motion, so without a nap (and crap I JUST REALIZED I LEFT MY COPY OF THE ECONOMIST AT THAT INDIAN RESTAURANT! that's why I was bored!) I itched for a distraction. I asked a question I pretty much knew the answer to, or at least would know the answer very soon (and knowing it made no different at all). She was polite enough to respond. I then blabbed some things about public transportation and she indulged me in a conversation. It delved deeper into my history and hers (turns out she lived in Portland for 30 years and was actually a middle school teacher ), which was certainly more interesting than silence. She was quite excited to learn that I was from Portland and was a middle school teacher too. We talked about how great John's Landing was back then, and how much Parkrose sucked and continues to suck. She also explained that the younger man (who seemed to be in his 20s?) was actually her nephew and just graduated from high school. Then she told him that I was from Portland and when his reaction was complete disinterest - not even a polite "oh, what great fortune", just a blank stare - I realized I was growing mad (he saw me for the soon-to-be-completely crazy person who talks to strangers whether they respond or not.. like that guy on the L train).

Talking -> mumbling -> yelling -> cats

As far as I can tell, the only difference between me and crazy people is that I don't look crazy so people are more willing to talk to me. I've been trying to be friendlier to strangers, thinking it was going to make things better. I see now that it was just a subtle step into madness. It's not always clear when people enjoy a conversation and when they are just being polite. And now I am tolerated because I can carry a conversation and not sound crazy, but it's really only a few quick and sudden drops before I start mumbling nonsensically, then yelling obscenities and finally throwing cats at strangers.

not again!

I might be nursing a mental illness. Yet some people tell me that the way I feel is normal. So I'm either normal or crazy? If those are my two options... that kind of sucks. I might have to go with the Alice in Wonderland thing here.

I am never satisfied. At least not for long. I can be happy that 5 (or was it 6?) of my students moved up to the next level, but why wasn't it 7 or 8? I might have been happy that I live in NYC, but why do I live in a neighborhood where I really must direct attention to my feet and the ground in order to leave my soles dogshit-less? How do all of these things not drive people crazy?

Am I just lacking in confidence? But why the fuck wouldn't I? Why the fuck don't you have self-esteem issues? You've really got nothing better to do than read my blog? I'm nobody. The guy who writes for the NY Times is probably a nobody also, so it's not like I'm suggesting reading the news or OP-ED is a better use of your time. I mean, really, your time is pretty useless. Perhaps not as useless as mine, but still probably in that range. The most impact an average person can have on others is probably by going batshit crazy and creating another news-worthy crime scene (and no, I don't suggest it, support it or condone it).

But how do you find meaning in life? Is it just by becoming self-centered, with emphasis on instant gratification? I guess that still occasionally works for me. I can still find joy in a scoop of ice cream, a brand new toy, or an entertaining tv episode/movie/"other video". But it feels empty afterwards... like it was just a distraction.

Are people not bothered by the futility because they accept it or deny it? I don't know that I can deny it, it just seems to be evident in everything I do. Nothing I do makes a substantial difference. As for accepting it? How am I supposed to accept that everything I love (and myself) will die... I realize this seems like a very teen, if not pre-teen, realization.. but I am not sure it was ever resolved.

I've been lying in bed for the past fucking 2 hours trying to fall asleep so I can wake up early in the morning and go to work so that I can teach someone some basic reading and math, and then come back home and wait until it's late so I can try to fall asleep so I can wake up early in the morning and go to work so that I can teach someone some basic reading and math. Seem repetitive? Your life is probably less empty, but is it any less repetitive? Besides, I am simplifying. On weekends I occasionally go out, either on dates with strangers (that goes without saying, I suppose, as why would someone who knew me date me?) or to bars/restaurants/"events" with friends. It fills the time, and I find it enjoyable... I almost feel happy. Then, towards the end, I realize the time is running out and soon I will feel incredibly alone and hollow again. I don't know why no one else feels that. You know, I felt less that way when I was stressed and overworked...I had no time to myself.... hmm...

I predict 3 readers and 0 comments.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

Sometimes I feel like the loneliest person in the world. Then my friend reminds me that there are almost 7 billion people on this lonely planet, and even though it's clear that I am pretty freaking lonely, it's statistically unlikely that I am the loneliest. Good point. Still, it's my pity party and I will cry if I want to, and oh how I want to.

I like my friends, the few real friends that I have (the 400 facebook friends don't count, because most of them don't remember who I am...although the "farcebook" is a good way to explore different sides of oneself, I guess).

At times I feel that I love my friends. And on a rare occasion I think that they love me too. But then I realize how structured and rehearsed our conversations really are... I say something that I expect they might find interest and they reply in kind (or vice versa). This seems obvious - you don't want to talk about something that isn't interesting to you, yet that simple fact makes our relationships with people that much more artificial. It's effectively self-censorship - I don't want to say something that I think will not receive a positive response, and instead I aim please, like a rat aims to please it's behavioral psychologist master. Press the levers to get the cheese, don't press the button that gives you the shock.

Maybe I'm eternally scarred from a complete absence of friends in middle and high school friends. Back then I still didn't know the English language or American culture, so being my friend was not rewarding. Also I was poor, so that was totally uncool. When I finally developed a somewhat desirable personality, I managed to find enough acquaintances to make me seem like a normal person.... like I had friend and I was like everyone else. But I wondered, do I look like a normal person because I'm that fucking good at creating illusions or because I actually am like other people?

Maybe it's just the fact that people often compliment me on being just like a normal person. Thanks, fuckers, I am pleased to hear that from your point of view I come off almost like I am normal. Either way, if I ever manage to stop being like a person and become an actual person, perhaps I could be happy. But maybe there is no such thing, maybe those compliments are sincerely stating "congratulations, your illusion is as real as anyone else's". But that's sad...

Don't misunderstand me. I do not want to lose my friends. Even if we never become closer, I still prefer their company to my own 9/10 times. But how much should I be concerned with maintaining friendships? I know relationships are supposed to take work, but does anyone else find that sad? Are they not best when they are organic, honest and spontaneous as opposed to planned to maximize gratification?

Perhaps I misunderstand what friends are for. Then let's consider life partners/spouses. If you believe in monogamy, then you must believe that they person is choose is almost uniquely qualified to be your partner for life. (If you disagree at this point, then it is not worth reading - I am working under the assumption that some people are better for you than others, and the whole "let's make it work by trying really really hard even though we secretly resent each other" approach is a terrible decision). So if you do believe in monogamy, then once someone cheats on you (or you cheat on someone) then you realize that this person does not have your best interest at heart and you split up.. right? Or do you try to work it out - compromise so that to minimize the unhappiness?

I tend to believe in monogamy of the sort where you can date/marry someone you like and when you start to diverge enough (because I think that people do change over time, and occasionally they change in opposing ways) it is okay to find someone else who you find happy. Life partner does not have to be life long partner, right? One of my acquaintances holds a completely different view. She wants to marry once and for all. She likes the fact that our parents's generations stuck it through despite all the misery. Even if you sleep in different beds in different rooms it is still good to be together. I respect that, in some way, because she wants that certainty in life that someone will be there for her, even if romance is dead. In fact, she says that romance typically dies before the wedding. If I understood her correctly, then the process is such:

meet someone attractive -> develop feelings for them -> get to know them better/fall in love -> determine if you could be there for each other 'til death parts you -> get engaged -> make sure you still feel like you can make a commitment even if the relationship isn't exciting any more -> get married. This is all supposed to happen in about the course of a year, 2 tops.

I don't agree with her on a conceptual level, but I do find something romantic in sticking with someone despite it not being romantic anymore. Besides, it's not like my approach has worked at all. I am basically an eternal bachelor until I either start lying to myself or to the person I would be dating.

If a potential employer uses this as a reason to deny me employment, know that you are not only a privacy-invading ass, but a stupid ass, because lonely people work much harder - they have nothing else going on.

20th post anniversary

Short Story

"Too bad," he sighed while scratching his ear, "no inspiration."

He was but a hollow shell, ready to spend his spring break wasting away until claimed by the underworld.

This is the end

The end of high prices (yes, simpsons reference).

Friday afternoon is a predictably good day. My lesson was fairly decent, the students were great, and after work I ate a bunch of pizza w/soda (and even some salad) for free. How could I not be happy?

Took a 20 minute nap on the train and it was still great. I am home now and STILL I am feeling good, and blasting music (much of which is happy). Yet I know there is an inevitable retreat of that feeling... that elation will slowly become deflation. I am fine with that, but I wonder if there is anything I should do now, that I feel like I can do pretty much anything (and I'm not even in an alcohol/drug induced altered state of mind). I guess I can enjoy it and dance. Then I can do my taxes.

But what about saying what you really feel WHILE you really feel? I never quite feel as much on most other days. So is now the time to call all of my friends and tell them that I love them or hate them or just think about them? Do I let it pass until I become a normal person?

Let's loop back to the pizza - I think it was in honor of a new employee, who is from San Diego, but lived in Portland for the past year (I really think that living/having lived in Portland is almost certain to get you a job at this place, as the hiring person loves it). It came out that I went to Reed and she said " Oooh you're a reedie? Every reedie I met was eccentric and awkward" ... and I felt inclined to ask "are you including me in that group?"

I wouldn't want her to think that after talking to me for 2 minutes, but I do want to be eccentric, any kind of centric, really.

I want to be ...memorable. Don't you?

also my co-workers are apparently pretty cool and did hardcore peace corps instead of peace corps lite and posh corps. I wonder if this joke is accessible to any other ex-corpians.

Alcohol and conversation

Do you find that conversations go a lot smoother when drinking (or already having drunk) ?

Now, I have already been informed that alcohol is a "social lubricant", but I would like to know more. How is it like KY Jelly?

1. (A)Is the conversation better because you are more relaxed? Does that mean you are usually tense or otherwise your inhibitions stifle the conversation potential? .... That sounds like you might want to explore that further.

(B) Is the conversation better because the other party is more relaxed, so it's not really your inebriation that makes the difference? Analogous conclusions can be drawn here.

2. Is it less about being relaxed and more about alcohol encouraging social interaction and interpersonal fun? So it does alter you in a way that makes you a better, more interesting person to be around? This certainly seems unlikely, especially if you can't hold your liquor.

3. Or is the obvious conclusion merely that your standards are lowered to such an extent (think beer goggles for conversation...beer earplugs?) that you just think you've had a great talk, when in reality it was as mundane and pointless as the rest of your life?

Not sure how I should have reacted

The work day ended well at 9PM when my professor ended the class 30-60 minutes early (it's a 7:30-10PM class that he usually dismisses at 9:30, but today was 30 minutes more special).

I ran to the subway station, missed the train by no more than 7 seconds, as the doors closed while I struggled to get the metrocard out of my pocket. I took advantage of this fact by going to the nadal 1 deli to pick up a delicious chicken philly cheese steak. So good.

Upon my return to the underground, I went through the turnstile and another person went after me, but I am pretty sure he didn't pay - somehow he just slid through it. I watched this with curiosity, wondering if I could do it as slickly as he. Noticing me, and perhaps thinking I was judging him, he let out an aggressive "what are you looking at?"

Not exactly afraid, as this was a public place and this stranger seemed to be around 15, I was nonetheless startled. In such cases, the easiest reaction is "nothing", which is what I said. If i did it over again I might have commented on his inventiveness (it looks more legit than the usual jumping over the turnstile) and that I was pondering implementing it myself. However, I wasn't sure if he was seriously upset so I decided not to confront him.

To my surprise, there was an even younger kid (I would guess no more than 12 - he looked small but sounded mature) who told the "aggressor" not to be a jerk, and walked over to me, shook my hand (in that cool way, not the boring business hand shake) and told me that guy was just kidding. I said "thanks"... and maybe an "it's ok", not because I was upset by the situation, in fact I was genuinely pleased that this occurred because it just reaffirms that New Yorkers are really nice people. So the kid apologized for the older kid, then another girl apologized for him, then as I was walking away towards a more strategic location on the platform (for the exit at my stop, not to distance myself from them) the "aggressor" chased me down and apologized. I was super amused and pleased. I couldn't tell if it was an offended look on my face, or if they thought I was going to cry, but basically at least three people took the effort to make me feel better and it felt great.

Turns out they got off at the same stop as I (coincidence? ..well, clearly, but it is a cool one), and it turns out (naturally) that they live a couple of blocks away and the younger kid's name is Michael and he goes to school in the area and he said "cool, I made a new friend". Unfortunately we didn't get into the subtleties of defining friendship, but it was just nice that my expectations [accumulated over my first year of teaching] that all young kids are a-holes are finally starting to break down.

The bad mood cometh

I hope it's not a regular 2-3 week cycle, that would be especially depressing.

I was just thinking of saying this is my last post, but then realized that was a rather obvious cry for attention (and a pointless one at that since no one reads this).

But I will read it again.. won't I? This plagiarized text seems relevant:

You once told me “A diary is a long winded letter you write to an old person who used to be you.”

Still, please take better care of it, everyone has to read it in the future, and the bits you’ve spilt grape juice over are completely indecipherable. All we know about -that- New Years Party is from eyewitness accounts of the event and the first and last words of the entry “You’d never believe…” and “…that’s how I ended up on the highway, with a bedside lamp and a breadbox full of money.

On a related note, is there anyone in NYC who wants to give me a hug? Don't force me to take rush hour trains just to get some accidental physical contact.

It's be a long February

Which is odd, considering it's the shortest month and all. Maybe that's why. You think it will be short, but then bam it's still 28 days long. And if anyone has ever had to survive a zombie virus, you know 28 days later is not soon enough.

Meanwhile my love is unrequited. No, it was unrequited, now it's just nonexistent. I'm too old for unrequitedness.

In subtly modified words of Mariah and Busta:

Baby iff you give it to me, I'll give it to you. I know what you want / As long as you want.

Oh and for unfortunate souls that have not encountered "iff" before, it means if and only if.

While happy

While happy, I can dispense the talk

While happy, I can run the walk

While happy, I feel, indeed I hope that it will last

Alas, it never does, if one can judge by the past

...

But it comes back, this mood hasn't stopped visiting me

Sometimes the guest is daily, even when so brief

That, doubting senses, I think I had imagined it to be

Sometimes it lingers and foolishly I dream that it will stay

Of course it always leaves, but then comes back for tea.

Oh, muse, I'm sorry I have a shitty vocab and no sense of rhyme, but that makes me no less deserving of wasting your bandwidth. Happy VD. Don't forget to get tested.

CLI anti-Valentine's Day Poem CHE

I met her outside the MoMA

The line was long moving slowly

"Hey Sexy, I like your aroma"

No, no one said that, i made that up wholly

She did exist though

She was from Canberra

We did the small talk tango

I offered friendship....rejectera

Oh well, she is just a tourist

In New York only for a week

Though I'm not a hostel purist

Bed bugs aren't worth the mystique

Those 4 minutes were worthwhile

If decidedly inconsequential

Thanks for making me smile

Briefly I felt preferential

The turtle IS beautiful

< | Boring Part | >

Snow days, other than summer, are one of the best things about being a teacher. I was informed yesterday not to come in to work on Wednesday (today), and naturally I assumed they were finally fed up with me (and what better way to fire someone than over the phone?). Considering that I previously got an e-mail (CCed to other higher-ups) about checking my student's laps for food to make sure they weren't eating (fine, it was phrased a little differently but it did use words like "laps", "food", "eating" and "no exceptions for your group").

Anywhom, they informed me it was going to snow and I thanked them for the weather update. Now with this information in hand I decided to stay up all night and act a fool (watch tv, do some linear algebra, talk about the deep-rooted bitterness/hate/anger in my soul, finish the raspberry gin and so on).

The following afternoon I woke up at 4pM, and upon realizing it was about to get dark and I might miss the snow day I quickly got dressed, tossed some food in my mouth, [for some reason] took 10 minutes to do leftover dishes, and ran out to Ft. Tryon Park.

< / Boring Part >

< | Mildly Entertaining |>

Fort Tryon is stunning in any weather, but it becomes a magical winter wonderland (redundant?) during a blizzard. I have photographic evidence to support the previous statement, but imagine hills and bare trees covered in fresh powdery snow. Perfect for snowballs, snowmen, snow barricades and other major snow products. The lampposts are very reminiscent of Narnia, but better because Narnia only had one, and Ft. Tryon has multiple well-spaced lampposts that light up one by one as the sun escapes to the other hemisphere (oh no, i just had a horrifying thought - what if we are the OTHER hemisphere? No it couldn't be, it's too hard to think about).

Despite the approaching darkness, there is the laughter of children, cute little pawprints from doggy-boots (i guess dogs get cold too?), sledding races, snowball fights, snow angels, deep philosophical discussions under the home tree, and squirrels desperately seeking their recently hidden nuts. It would warm your heart if you had one (I was worried all this joy would spontaneously generate me a soul).

After taking some pictures, enjoying the snowy wind in my face and watching a 10-year old wipe out and knock over a big metal trash can, I felt that my outing was complete. It was already getting dark and I began to briskly walk back, past the Dominican[-American] mother disciplining her son for taking off his hat and other such nostalgic scenes. I was almost out when a woman asked me, "Красивая черепиха?", which in Russian means something vaguely like "Is the turtle beautiful?". Caught off guard, and confused about how she knew I spoke Russian (let alone what she meant),I replied in Russian "да, черепаха красивая" , which translates to "yes, the turtle is indeed beautiful." Apparently I startled her more than she startled me as she just sort of pointed towards a little plastic turtle shaped snow-form thing beheld by some kid just a few feet away from her. "Ah", I thought, and quickly ran off.

< / Mildly Entertaining >

I'm dreaming

I'm dreamin' in the mornin'
I'm dreamin' all through the night
And when I'm dreamin' I know that it's all right
Woo-hoo-hoah
I'm dreamin' in the evening
Dreamin' all through the day
And when I'm dreamin' I know that it's okay
Woo-hoo-hoah

Interactions with Strangers ( "Oh no, is Sarah right again?"

Part I

As I was listening to Russian 90s rock about drinking poison, a handsome stranger tapped me on the shoulder and asked me, with a strong accent, if this train would take him to times square. I said "yes, the stop is 42nd st" and put my headphones back on.

A few moments later he gestured for me to take out the headphones so he could continue to converse. I didn't mind (I was bored and also being in the position where you have the knowledge someone wants makes you feel powerful) so he continued to ask me, using his hands and figures to show the number, what's the best way to get to 54th .

I was hoping that maybe he spoke Russian, but he said "no English, Italia" which I took to mean he was from Italy and therefore spoke a different language. He asked me if I was going to 42nd, and I said yes, deciding to omit the fact that I am merely transferring there.

In any case, this long boring story continued to a few more surprisingly non-awkward interactions where we barely understood each other and concluded with me saying "good luck" and him shaking my hand in a peculiarly Italian manner (I assume) and saying "Ciao".

Part II

The whole occurrence made me feel like I met the quota for nice deeds and positive interactions in one brief subway ride. Then I proceeded to wonder why my interactions with foreigners were generally so much more pleasant... how odd that I would get along better with someone I couldn't understand very well. Why were so many of my friends at Reed "international students" while I was "international" only as a technicality?

This is when I realized that Sarah might not always be wrong. For those of you who are not the Sarah , yesterday she said that I just have unrealistic expectations of people and that as soon as I get to know someone well I almost always find flaws in them. How depressing.

It might be true, though. I have plenty of pleasant interactions with people I don't know very well. I have many "friends" with whom I've had less than 5 meaningful conversations. I also have some friends that pass the test (or more likely whose test I passed) and we share a significant amount of trust and respect for each other. However, the in-between friends are tough... you have to suffer through the misunderstandings and disagreements, all while trying to figure out if they like you or if you care whether they like you. Perhaps my friendships with foreigners, and many other acquaintances, are superficial ...but are they superfluous or quite the opposite?

Part III

So what? Well I have generally come to agree with the whole belief that positive attitude attracts positives. That, as Blair Waldorf (Queen B of trashy TV) said, vibrating at the right frequency will attract happy people and repel others. Or, basically the entire stupid contents of the stupid "the secret" movie. Except, of course, it's not mystical. People like to see other people have fun and enjoy themselves, it's just a fun thing to observe. At the risk of being redundant, it looks fun and it makes you feel like you will have fun. Basically wanting to be around happy people is a completely natural reaction for someone who wants to be happy. Just like someone who is hungry would go to a grocery store and someone who is horny would find the orgasm-dispensing destination of his or her choice. Similarly, if you want to be joyful be around people who are... leech off their fucking glee.

This explains why when I was feeling depressed I barely had any friends, and when I temporarily overcame it and became a hyper kid I usually could find someone to spend time with. That is sad though. Now that my mood has begun fluctuating again, I run the risk of alienating most of my friends (because I don't have any truly close friends in NYC, or at least that has been my assessment of the situation... I'd be surprised if someone here deeply cared). Not because I want to alienate them, just because I'm less willing to be entertaining. I don't want to be unpleasant, I just don't want to work towards creating an illusion. The alternative, of course, is to play the happy game and act in a way that would attract more people that are unlikely to ever became long-term friends. While quantity is not preferable to quality, it's something.

Then again... people that do care about me, did it not take years for us to get here? There were definitely points where both of us probably thought "wtf? not worth my time." Arghh, I shudder to think that Kathy Oleson (social psych prof) that our strong feelings towards people, like love, are almost direct results of proximity, such that the more time we spend together and the closer (physical distance-wise) we are (like sitting next to each other in class or elsewhere) the more likely we are to develop strong bonds. It's frustratingly superficial. I want some real fucking fulfillment.

P.S. Does anyone read this? Or was "Strange Dame: Part I" my one and only hit?

Does a person who does not love life deserve to be loved?

I guess I know how the smiths feel about this (then again, "need" and "deserve" are different things... or are they?)

Secondly, I was just in a class where we had to write about our name. To my surprise some people wrote elaborate stories and felt very happy and strangely proud of their name. How do you feel about your name? Do you identify strongly with it? Does a you by any other name...etc etc?

I really do want to know. E-mail, facebook or comments on the blog are all fine options.

Happiness

Is happiness the opposite of sadness? If I am not sad, then am I happy?

Hobbies. Hobbies make people happy. Keeping busy is a way to avoid "those thoughts". From personal experience it is true, when I am busy worrying about the mundane details, I rarely bother to question the significance of those things or the soundness of my emotional state. But is that something to aspire to?

Certainly achieving this happiness must take work, but must it also take consistent, never-ending investment to maintain such a state?

I would love to hear how you've built and keep up your happiness, or how you plan to do so, or why you don't plan on doing so.

Thanks.

The disappointing conclusion you've all been waiting for

At least it doesn't coincide with the season premiere of lost or whatever led to the rescheduling of the state of the union.

STRANGE DAME, PART II.

Last time we left off with the curiously peculiar creature of the female form comfortably and obliviously reading on the train while committing a crime ( giving up your seat is not only polite, it is THE LAW!).

Where was she going? Uptown, sure, but that's where I live... Maybe she's that new neighbor I haven't met! I started fantasizing that she lived just under me, then I could uncover her mystery and she would have no power over me. I could welcome her to the building and thank her for the pleasant subway ride by dropping some pots and pans on the floor as I leave for work at 7am. Alas, my stop had arrived and she did not move. Neither did I.

I tend to practice subtle people-gazing, nothing that could be interpreted as staring - confrontational, amorous or otherwise. In this case, however, my attention was quite obviously focused on the pretty ugly pretty one. Yet this time my violation of social conduct went unnoticed. I hypothesized about the boundaries I could push before she disengaged with her book and engaged with my face. I started to move closer as her eyes moved left and right and down the page at superhuman speeds. Captivated by her captivation by the book I inched closer to get a better look or perhaps even say hello.

"Last stop. This is the last stop. Please exit the train." She stood up, walked across the platform to the downtown track. As I searched my pockets for something I could pretend to think she dropped, the doors closed and she was rushed in the opposite direction by the express train. Strange dame.

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The best is yet to come.