Weeks Like This One...

Make everything better. I mean, I got accepted at my internship (I was unemployed for about 16 hours), only skipped one class all week (which is a record of some kind for me, especially in 20 credits), got caught up on homework, had a very reasonable, solid show tonight, and got to hang out with some good friends, a number of whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. Had a couple of drinks with people, did a total of 9 hours of improv work, and got my entire life organized in a way that I think I can manage in the long-term. Life 2.0, you are every bit as awesome as you promised to be when I came back from Jersey and came across you. Now if only I could do something about this remarkably profound loneliness, I think things would be pretty much perfect.

         -Richard

QOTD:
"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid."   - Good Will Hunting

Just something I've been pondering...

People yearn for honesty, and yet our culture has taught us to be so afraid when we encounter honesty in other people that we push them away. Folks live isolated, lonely lives because they've been taught to fear the idea of actually connecting with people, and when they bump into another lonely, isolated person, all anyone can do is put up a facade and pretend that they're not lonely or isolated.



How fucked up is that? How absurd is it that every day, you likely encounter a hundred people in your community who are just as starved for real, human connection as you are, and yet neither of you will do anything about it, ignorant of the craving that you both have, that you could satisfy for one another?



Pretty fucked up, let me tell you.

     -Richard

PS - I am not writing this with regards to anything physical or sexual. Connecting with another human being has nothing to do with sex. That's all.

My thoughts on today, and things in general.

"I mean, for all of the awful things that happen out in the great, big world every day, there are a million tiny moments; people helping others, inspiring them to laughter, supporting them through tears, and comforting them in times of need. And that is the stuff that makes the world worth living in." - Me.

What a weekend.

That's all I have to say about that, honestly. What a weekend. Worked my last two shifts at FedEx, went to a great birthday dinner, asked an amazing girl out, got to see a good friend - if only briefly, got an e-mail about the internship that I really want, got caught up on all homework through Tuesday (with only reading left for Wednesday), had a decent improv practice, have two more practices in the coming week, and got to talk to a really good friend old friend of mine in California this morning (again, even if only briefly). It was busy, mostly with work, but I'm still incredibly excited to get some sleep, just so tomorrow gets here sooner. Which is a feeling I'd like to have more often. It's like Christmas Eve, circa age 5. 


QOTD:

“Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”

Angela Monet

1/20/11

So, while I got off on exactly the right foot during the first week of school, the second week has already become rockier than I would've liked. I had a pretty piss-poor Tuesday and Wednesday, academically speaking, as I didn't end up going to 2 classes, but I made up for it today, and have things all prepared to have an awesome day tomorrow. 


The best part of the week, however, has to have been last night. I was told to go meet up with some friends, as one of them turned 24 yesterday, and wanted me to come out and get a drink. I was sort of tired, and didn't particularly feel like going out or putting pants on again, but I went anyway, and it ended up being incredible. All of the folks normally associated with this group of friends dance together, both locally and as a part of the University Ballroom dance team. Well, they decided to bring out a new girl last night, whom I had never met. She was rather...sullen for the early part of the evening, and one of my friends informed me that "[I] need to make "Ellen" laugh. Her friend just passed away of cancer, and she's having a rough night." Soooo the gloves came off, and I gave "Ellen" one of my better performances, as well as having a great time conversing and swapping stories with the birthday girl, some of my other friends, and at least one complete stranger. The night cost me $20, but I got my money's worth one-hundred times over knowing that "Ellen" walked away with her sides hurting from laughing so much, instead of spending her night crying. Lord knows, there's time to cry, but that time was not last night.


     -Richard




QOTD:
“We all die. The goal isn't to live forever, the goal is to create something that will.”
-Chuck Palahniuk

The Moby Dick of Blog Posts, Part III - Family, Flying, and Fixing Fuckups.

Dear Reader, I appreciate your time in having gotten this far. I know that a great deal of my writing seems to be somewhat mundane, and in fact, a great deal of it is, but I have a firm no-revision policy. Which is to say, I make it a point to write as I think, and write what I'm thinking, and never second-guess or doubt those thoughts. What all of this means is, I almost never have any clue what I am going to write about until I'm actually writing it. The epiphanies, ideas, and philosophies that I come across as I write in this blog are just as fresh and new to me when I write them as they are to you, as you read them. So please, bear with me. Thank you.

Now then: After Carmen, I returned to my Aunt's house in Berkeley Heights, arriving at about 2am, just as they were getting ready to head to bed. I slept on their futon, and woke up to a house that would eventually fill to the point of near-bursting with 3 aunts, 4 cousins, 2 uncles, 1 neighbor and enough food to feed 15. In that house, one could find coffee, family, conversation, and all of the finest things in life. It was an amazing way to spend my last day in Jersey, and I'm glad that I got to see everyone for the last time before I returned home.

The flights back were long, and tiresome, and while I was fortunate enough to sleep for all 3 of them, and while my layovers were graciously short, the trek was still quite long, and I was glad to be home after all. It was only then that I was able to properly reflect on things that I had learned in Jersey, and decisions that I had made.

First, there is something to be said for waking up early, making a pot of coffee, having a bagel, reading the news, and getting ready for one's day in a leisurely fashion. It is a habit that has stuck with me thus far, and one that I will do everything in my power to perpetuate. Waking up at 8 is not at all difficult if you don't stay up until 3, like an asshole, and it only takes 10 minutes to make breakfast, so why not?

Second, being prepared for the coming day is not as difficult a goal as I once thought it to be. Forethought and planning have never been my strong suits, and so I am glad that I have actually bothered to take the time, as I've found the whole experience to be very rewarding. I've been at class early, with all required textbooks, and a lunch packed, every day so far. Here's to another 80 days just like that.

Third, and perhaps finally, I have seen firsthand just how....venomous people can be sometimes, even when they don't intend to be. To that end, I have decided to put an end to any gossiping in my presence. I will not tolerate anyone talking about anyone else behind that person's back anymore, and I hope to stop that unfortunate act in my own life as well. So, there we are. That's what I've come up with. Here's to giving things a new go, and treating my holiday/trip to Jersey as a chance to step back from life, and get back into the ring with a renewed sense of conviction to get things right.

QOTD:

"And we should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh." - Friedrich Nietzsche

The Moby Dick of Blog Posts, Part II - Carmen.

The week following New Year's Eve was relatively unspectacular, and it wasn't until I got back to Philipsburg that I realized just how exhausted I was, so that was probably for the best. Spent another 6 days sleeping, watching Bones with my parents, reading, futzing around on my computer, and generally having a calm, quiet time of things. The weekend following New Year's, however, was another spectacular foray into the Big Apple.


Tom and his girlfriend Kelsey had tickets to go see Carmen, a very famous and incredible opera, at the New York Metropolitan Opera House, a very famous and incredible venue. They bought me a ticket, so it would be barbaric of me to say no, wouldn't it? I was thrilled at the idea of going to this show, as I had heard excellent things, and, despite being a heterosexual male, I happen to love good opera. So, I took a train in this time, instead of the bus, which turned out to be not only faster, but cheaper and more comfortable. I highly recommend it, and I think I'm going to make every effort to travel by train whenever possible. It's quite pleasant. Anyway, after getting into the city, I met up with Tom and Kelsey on Union Square again, and had dinner at the Heartland Brewery. While there, I had two very decent locally-made beers, the Bavarian Black Lager, and "Farmer Jon's Oatmeal Stout", and loved the glass for the Black Lager so much that it now resides in my cupboards, next to my Korea-Town, New Year's Eve Edition golden chopsticks. After dinner, we got on yet another train to head to the Met, and I saw a man performing on a XYLOPHONE down in the station, with his iPod playing the background music. It was fantastic. He played "Under the Sea" from The Little Mermaid, and  "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train before I got onto the subway, which made the wait much more bearable.

PS - I HATE "Hey, Soul Sister" for being as fucking catchy as it is. It is NOT a good song, and yet, I cannot help but sing along/tap my feet. Train makes me mad.

The show itself was stupendous. The songs were exquisite, the story was easily followed by the superb overacting (a skill in and of itself, and one that is necessary if you want to convey anything to the people sitting up in the 9th floor balcony, like I was) and brilliant set/costume design, and the audience seemed genuinely invested, laughing at all of the appropriate times, even though the whole show was in French. The night was probably one of the best I had during my holiday, and definitely the best I've ever had in New York. Tom introduced me to the East Village Opera Company while I was there, which I HIGHLY recommend, as they perform a wide variety of traditional, classic operas, but with electric guitars and drums and such, and an absolutely stunning vocal cast. It's like the Trans-Siberian Orchestra of Opera. Go.

QOTD:
"Stories live in your blood and bones, follow the seasons and light candles on the darkest night-every storyteller knows she or he is also a teacher... —Patti Davis"

The Moby Dick of Blog Posts, Part I - NYE.

So, I haven't been around in awhile, as I've been either across the country doing things, or too sick to care about anything at all beyond getting through classes. That being said, my last post was shortly before New Year's Eve, so I suppose that I ought to explain....no, there is too much. Let me sum up. I'll take things chronologically, mostly for my sake.


New Year's Eve was an incredible night in Downtown New York City, and put me in a mood completely opposite the one I was in at the last post (Which, I believe, ended in the phrase "Fuck adventure"). After a couple of hours on Times Square watching and walking and wandering, I met up with a friend from High School, whom I hadn't seen in a year or more.  We moseyed a little more, and decided that Times Square was a complete zoo, and that we had best find NYE plans elsewhere. We rendezvoused with his friend, who then called up HIS friend, making ours a party of 4, 3 of whom were Asian (I was the white kid, for once). They decided that we should go to Korea-Town, so we walked a few blocks up, had some sake, chatted for a bit, walked another few blocks, had some snack-type chicken and beer, Asian-style, walked another few blocks, had an actual meal with two MORE people, and then lost half of our party, and ventured into Central Park, for a surprisingly festive, rather little-known NYE celebration, featuring a 4-mile midnight run, a DJ playing some reasonably good music, and a crowd of thousands of the happiest, friendliest New Yorkers I have ever met. They were all sober - which was surprising, but I later discovered that the whole Central Park celebration was focused on starting the new year out in a healthy, positive manner (hence the midnight run), rather than losing consciousness - and chatty, and perfectly welcoming to foreigners, and I was even assaulted by one fairly attractive young lady at about midnight, which is relatively unheard of on that side of the country. After the clock struck 12, there was an absolutely incredible fireworks display, and a great deal of cheering, music, laughing, smiling, and revelry, which makes me almost certain that I made the right choice in avoiding the Times Square crowd. After we left Central Park, my friend David ended up leaving with the 3rd member of our group, leaving me alone on my way to Union Square to meet up with another friend from Boise, who was just getting into town, and his girlfriend, whom I had chatted with on facebook, etc, but had never actually met. After sitting at a nice, warm diner and having a cup of coffee with them, I have verified that she is good people, and it was absolutely great to see Tom again as well. However, I had no place to stay for the night, so I followed them back to Kelsey's apartment in Brooklyn, and slept like a brick on a hardwood floor, with my parka and sweatshirt serving as blanket and pillow. We got to her apartment at about 4am, which means that I spent 12 hours in the cold, wet city, generally carousing with random strangers, finding and losing company almost hourly, and witnessing the best parts of New York. I call it a win, and only pray that I do something this awesome again in 2011.

QOTD:
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." - Maya Angelou