Sylvia

"Yes, I was infatuated with you; I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those."

Guilty Pleasure

"A guilty pleasure is something one enjoys and considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it. Often, the "guilt" involved is simply fear of others discovering one's lowbrow or otherwise embarrassing tastes, rather than actual moral guilt. Fashion, music, and food (especially unhealthier foods high in sugar and/or fat) can be examples of guilty pleasures."


We all have them. Some, it seems, are more embarrassing than others. I'm not one to be easily embarrassed so I thought I'd share some of my top ten most guilty pleasures.

1. Fast Food Fiction. I read. A LOT. Throughout the course of my week I read magazines, news articles, classic literature, haikus (the only type of poetry I can stand to read), cereal labels, and so on. But, put me on a beach with a beer and bring on the James Paterson. Not everything in life was meant to inform. I like to read and not have to think or meditate. I just like to be entertained sometimes.

2. Reality Television. Simply put: watching the downfall and stupidity of others makes me feel like a slightly better person.

3. Pop Music. I know all the words to probably every Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and Black Eyed Peas songs.

4. Facebook Stalking. This one is pretty self-explanatory. It's not gender exclusive. I find certain people very entertaining to "follow".

5. My Robe. I have a robe that I wear CONSTANTLY. If I could wear it outside without public ridicule, I would. Basically it's like a hug in the form of terrycloth. You should get one. It will love you back. Promise.

6. Chocolate.

7. Dancing and/or Cooking in my Underwear. I don't think there's quite as many things as liberating as being barely clothed, barefoot, blasting The Smiths and cooking some vegetarian chili.

8. Chick Flicks. I love good "films" complete with moving cinematography and a storyline that inspires but I'm an absolute sucker for a movie with a predictable plot and cheesy chick rock in the soundtrack. Oh, Gerard.

9. Youtube. Hours and hours of amusement.

10. Hitting Snooze. I purposely set my alarm 30 minutes early just so I can hit snooze three times. Three is, after all, my favorite number. Plus, I feel like I've stuck it the man by hitting snooze more than once.

The list is endless but these are the things most accessible in my mind. Enjoy.

Moo-ve Over Carnivores

'You're one of those people who don't eat meat? How do you survive? I feel so bad for you! You can't even eat anything!'

If I had a dollar for every time I heard that. . .

Vegan or strict vegetarian is the elusive diet that many radicals and animal-rights activists share. It seems extreme. It seems impractical and it seems impossible to most.

With the way Americans have been trained to eat and drink, it can seem daunting to cut out meat, dairy, and even (shock, gag, horror) Jell-O. Why, wouldn't it be easier to swing by McDonalds and get a $1 cheeseburger? Oh, and don't forget the large fries and Coke!

Before I became vegan, I was not a vegetarian. I considered myself a foodie who'd try almost anything as long as it wasn't moving. Dairy upset both my stomach and sinuses so i opted out of dairy for quite some time. While pork and beef weren't mainstays of my daily diet, I'd eat them occassionally and without hesitance. I will admit, they were delicious. It was never something I craved, though and that revelation made me curious about this radical diet.

I decided on a month. From January 1st 2009 until February 1st, I was going to be a vegan. My last meal was a bacon cheeseburger. Basically minor coronary failure between two sesame seed buns. That was the last time I've had a bacon anything. My first meal as a vegan was soy milk and cereal for those curious. It was the beginning of the end.

I did my research. I didn't go into it blindly. I wanted to know how to sustain my body using plants and grains. I wanted to know where I'd get my iron and protein from. Research taught me lots. I learned that certain kinds of beans and legumes sometimes have hundreds of times of protein and iron than the average American steak.

With excitement, a desire to feel better and a little expert advice, I set off in the kitchen. I made vegan pizzas and lasagnas and puddings and pushed my culinary know-how to include a wide array of food. I loved the variety of colors and textures I was opening myself up to. I'm proud to say that my first month I didn't cheat at all. I stayed true to the challenge at hand and was even rewarded with a little less cushion for the-- well, you know.

I will admit that it's not the easiest. Looking at most menus, I cringed. There was only so many times I could order a salad (hold the cheese), with a side of bread. It wasn't just about training myself, it was about training my friends too. I was able to eat any cuisine with a little forethought, creativity and planning. Basically, the only type of restaurant I avoided were steak houses. Shame, who doesn't like the smell of mass produces seared cow flesh?

Although I've recently downgraded to being a vegetarian, aside from moderate cheese consumption and the delectable runny egg, I still have a vegan state of mind. After you've had vegan peanut butter bomb cake you'll understand why. Cue a Meg Ryan moment. You'll want to have what I'm having.

Is it odd to say that I feel closer to the earth? To the creations provided for out benefit? Since being a vegan/vegetarian I've become heavily interested in homeopathic cures and became moderately obsessed with the power of honey and raw unfiltered apple cider vinegar. Maybe it's my inner hippie trying to break free but I feel better knowing I'm doing all that I can for myself and the environment around me. Not to mention, only 2 colds in 2 years!

Of course, I don't think it's for everyone but I do think people should think before they eat, listen to their bodies and remember that good things are worth the effort. It's just as relevant with food as it is love, folks!

So, take your shoes off. Walk through grass barefoot. Clean out those arteries. Eat more brussel sprouts. Eat less meat. Drink more wine. Leave less of a carbon footprint. Run, don't walk. And embrace your inner flower child because somewhere deep down we all have one.

Skeltons, Letters and Plain Old J-U-N-K

In an ideal world, I'd like to think of myself as someone non-sentimental. Unfortunately, this is not an ideal world. Recently, I stumbled upon the remnants of my adolescence and early adulthood. Buried deep within the depths of my closets I found poems, letters, cards, journals and other tokens of amorous feelings from a variety of admirers. Sorting through them, many emotions stirred inside me like a disapproved-of-Bond-martini. For one thing, I was relieved that I was no longer remotely emotionally attached to any of these men. It's amazing what sort of choices one makes when youth, low self-esteem and naivete are combined and made into a potent concoction. Suddenly, without much experience, sense or comprehension of forethought, decisions are made and emotions erupt.

I'm not in the mood to finish this at the moment but hitting "Publish Post" is just too tempting.

Baring My Adolescent Soul. Be Gentle With It.

Eleven years ago I was instructed to write a letter to myself. On the envelope, in large print it reads: "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 2009!" The letter, was naturally forgotten. I stumbled upon it around age twenty and since that time, I had been eagerly anticipating 2009. I read it January 1st, 2009. I set it aside and once again forgot about it. Just last night, after some organizing, it resurfaced. The letter made me happy. It made me sad. I'm glad to know that the core person has always been the same. Sure, my 13-year-old mind was simple and petty, but it was tender and pure. I can't let my 13-year-old self down. Many of these goals I've accomplished. Some I haven't. Oh, and my grammar was atrocious. Here is the unedited, deepest darkest thoughts of me at age 13. Enjoy.



5-19-99


Dear Alison,

Hey How are ya. I bet your alot different than 10 years, hopefully your nice :) Right now your 13 years old.. Life well sucks being a teenager. I'm in the seventh grade at Dyker Heights I.S. 201. I'm in class 7SPE-1. My favorite teacher is Mr. May. What an intellect. My least favorite teacher Mr. Typrowicz, what a fruitcake he is. I live at 1555 Benson ave. Right now your in Home and Careers 8th period. I'm thinking about high school, I don't want to go to New Utrecht. I want to go to Fort Hamilton. Adam goes there he's so cute. I love art and poetry, huge Monet fan. I just ordered some cd's from BMG, was that a mistake? Hope not. Mom is planning to let me go to California with Jill, I'm so excited. Blyth is my pioneer partner, she's nice in a weird way. Amy just dyed her hair midnight black.

Today you got 60% on a math pop quiz and a 83% on a Social Studies Test. Not such a good day. Nevermind not such a good month. Richard Diomede is his name and harassing me is his game that's what he does best. he calls me Bubba Fat a*s, and every other name in the book. I've just taken care of him real good, you should remember. OOOhhh :) I'm getting baptized in 11 days yup Sunday May 30, 1999. How exciting. My parents bought a timeshare and Grandma Dora lives with us. Ah! Listen nobody knows this but I think (name removed for self-preservation) is cute. I mean he is. So is Brad Pitt, Ryan Philippe and Brendan Fraiser. Wow! Their cute. How are these people, probably really, really old, that stinks. Huh.

Now, about you. Yes you, 23 years old, you! Wow si that weird, 23, I think that my turning 15 would be a huge thing. I hope your happy, and you have a really good relationship with your family, you probably will be giong to your brothers graduation, or was that 2008, I don't know, just take care of him make sure he's okay. Oh, and keep on keeping daddy from eating all that junk. Yuck! Heart attack, I tell you. I wish, I hope your in some beautiful European country or in a huge apartment in Manhattan. You'll probably have red hair, I've always wanted red hair and 2 piercings in each ear. I hope you've got like the world's greatest-best friend, because right now I feel like I don't have a friend in the world, loneliness can get to you. I hope your in love with some great sweet gorgous guy who treats you like a queen, and if your still looking don't get desperate.

Live your life, carpe diem. (Sieze the day) Do fascinating things like move to France or going to climb a mountain something like that, Men aren't the only important thing in life, but what should I know I'm 13 your 23. I have these fantasies of my future I act like I'm older. I dream I live in an awesome apartment with my best long time bug, and my golden retriever. I'll have a great boyfriend, drive a bmw and be a court reporter making about $85,000 a year and pioneer. This is what I'm expecting of you. Somewhat of great expectations. Technology has probably really changed, maybe you can travel places in less than an hour, or there are people living on the moon. Computers are probably doing everything for you, people are probably very lazy. I hope your a world traveler and you've almost accomplished my goal of visiting every continent. I hope you have had your scuba lessons.

I bet Max is really over-protective even when he was 8 he was (worry-ward) I hope you are a size 6. I always wanted to be thin. I'm definitely not now. Do you still paint. If you don't you should continue. I really hope your happy, It's just that happiness is important. Call mom at least 3 times a week at least. 23 is supposed to be my lucky number, therefore making it my lucky age. Is it lucky at all? I guess that's up to you, me, we're all the same person. I don't want children till I'm past 32, so I could spend some years with my hubby. Children's name should be Kirstin Azura__________ & Ethan Jaykob___________. THose are nice names. Let's see, my favorite color is blue. I'm 5'10. Fat (underlined immensely in the original letter.) I love rock music. Metallic Rocks. I'm usually very funny, and loves chocolate and ice cream Yum :) I love my family and our relationship lately it's improved. I hope that by now you are smiling and crying. So kudos to you, and what does kudos mean, and well, take care of......me!

Love,
Alison Santiago '99

Who.

I am an introvert.
I think.

I am gregarious.
I talk.

I am a fighter.
I dispute.

I am peaceable.
I pursue it.

I am strong.
I persevere.

I am weak.
I shatter.

I laugh to keep from crying.
I stay mute to keep from lying.

Lame. Flame. Blame. Shame.

We are who we want to be.
In ourselves we see only what we want to see.

Fortune Cookie Project

I went to a gallery in Chelsea last winter and there was an artist who dedicated a year of her art work to fortune cookies; categorizing them, archiving them, diagramming, and connecting them to one of a similar message. Aesthetically it wasn't beautiful but it was certainly interesting and fun to browse.

I love Chinese food; I love fortune cookies. I've decided to do a similar project on a much smaller scale. I've started a small collection of fortunes and am looking forward to seeing where this goes. It probably won't be for a while that it's done but I'm working on it and wanted some to be made aware so, watch out for the fortune cookie project ripoff!

Creatively Speaking: The Nuance of Thought

I've been in the process of teaching my students creative writing. I never fully realized how challenging it can be to teach creative thought and expression. I assigned a student a two-page short story for homework and as I was reviewing it, I noticed the plot summary was shockingly close to that of the movie Independence Day. I asked him if he had seen this in a movie and he said "kinda." It seems like technology is further and further ruining the future generations; polluting their minds with nonsense and dribble making it impossible for them to establish a creative thought without the aid of movies and television.

Obviously, I was mortified and so began my change of lesson plan. I decided to start with a short and usually, rather fun writing process--the haiku. To express the sixth grade brain in 17 syllables is quite a feat for them. To inspire and give an example of writing, I wrote a few haikus myself. I don't claim to be a master of the haiku so, judge not.

Spoiler alert: I was hungry when I wrote these and was seemingly inspired by tropical fruit.

Here they go:

Mango

Juicy mango, yum
Comes from India-- how far!
Can't drive there with car


Banana

Yellow delicious
Bread, muffin, smoothie, pie, cake

In my tummy now

Olvide/Tears That End in a Smile

The sound of your voice is but a whisper amidst a deep chasm.
The echo is barely audible.
Like the whisper, the memory is faint, maybe even nonexistent.
I forgot.

The touch of your hand is a mere rustling of the wind on a warm day.
A rustling weak and distant.
The thought neither cools nor warms just like a weak summer wind.
I will forget.

Your words are like time of yesteryear.
Lost and gone forever.
A distant memory that takes much effort to be recalled to mind.
I am forgetting.

Your tokens of love are mere trinkets up for sale to the highest bidder.
The tinkerings of my heart are now mine.
They are tightly locked and guarded.
I am once again my protector. My keeper. My savior.

My eyes have dried themselves.
My hand has held itself.
My heart has healed itself.
To remember is human, but to forget is divine.
And I forgot. I will forget. I am forgetting.

From Cover to Cover

"Read the Bible daily." We are constantly admonished to do that. How many of us actually do?
I'm not sure and I won't turn this into a confessional blog. I will, however, and quite sheepishly admit that in the past I've allowed my daily Bible reading to fall by the wayside.

After a much needed reality check, I reinstituted my daily Bible routine and plan on finishing it within a year. I cannot even begin to gush about all the new and interesting facts I've learned and absorbed recently as well as the barrage of blessings I've begun to enjoy. Reading the Bible in a chronological order has allowed me to get a better grasp of Biblical history and lineages.

Anyhoo, here's a neat little point I gathered from my reading today taken from Exodus 35: 30-35:

30 Then Moses said to the sons of Israel: “See, Jehovah has called by name Bez′al‧el the son of U′ri the son of Hur of the tribe of Judah. 31 And he proceeded to fill him with the spirit of God in wisdom, in understanding and in knowledge and in every sort of craftsmanship 32 and for designing devices, for working in gold and silver and copper, 33 and in working of stones to set them and in working of wood to make ingenious products of every sort. 34 And he has put it into his heart that he should teach, he and O‧ho′li‧ab the son of A‧his′a‧mach of the tribe of Dan. 35 He has filled them with wisdom of heart to do all the work of a craftsman and an embroiderer and of a weaver in blue thread and wool dyed reddish purple, in coccus scarlet material and fine linen, and of a loom worker, men doing every sort of work and designing devices.


Maybe this point was obvious to all you smart folks out there, but I was never fully aware that Jehovah had granted the gift of wisdom and understanding to learn a craft such as woodwork, stone-setting, etc in this situation. Because of these gifts, it enabled the Israelites to carry out Jehovah's purpose.

This made me think about the future. We always think about post-Armageddon and imagine lots of building, planting and a worldwide clean-up. Obviously, we're not all natural widdlers of wood. Not all of us know how to build a structurally sound house, or plant a lush garden in adverse climates. How amazing is it that Jehovah will give us the know-how and savvy to be able to do this, and in turn, carry out his purpose. It just made me realize that regardless of what our physical and mental limitations are, Jehovah's spirit can enable us to do things we never thought possible. I know that's an obvious and reiterated point but it's nice to see it from an unexpected angle such as this.

That is my one enlightening thought for the day. It was a bit paraphrased but I hope it made sense and was not mistaken for being "preachy."

For Today

I was walking with your left hand in my back pocket
And I stared at the sky while you kissed me
And you were running away, away from everything
And I stayed behind so you'd miss me
And all these words would sound so sweet
I could care less about you
Care less about you
And I love the sound of you walking away
And I can see clearer and I'm getting closer
To finding out to just who I am without you in the way
So hold me
But only for today
In spite my best ambitions
Getting in the worst situations
But here I am crystal clean

Happy Mishaps

Mistakes, misdirections, false steps, errors, blunders, boo-boos--we all make them. Some, unfortunately, are bigger than others. Some can change the course of our lives. Some, we'll forget about in days, or even hours. Some, never.

Our inherent imperfection makes it all too easy for us to err and even easier for us to blame our inadequacies on something we can't help. For the sad majority that believe their mistakes are just a result of imperfection, they will never learn. They will never grow. They will keep on making the same mistakes over and over again. It will be a vicious cycle of hurt and hate.

At one time or another, I think we all blame our shortcomings on inheritance. It's too hard to reflect on what we've allowed ourselves to become and think about ways that we can better ourselves. Laziness gets us nowhere, especially in the area of self-improvement.

I've erred. I've made mistakes that I thought no one could forgive me for. It's amazing how far mercy can get you, especially when it's Divine. Once you learn He can forgive you, it's just that much easier to forgive one's self.

Forgiveness and acknowledgment seem to be key when it comes to learning and making a near fatal mishap into something positive. I can say with the utmost confidence that I can't remember a time in my recent life where I've been this happy, this secure and this motivated to improve myself, my relationships and my plans for the future.

We all fall down, but will we be able to muster up the strength to get back up again? Do we have the energy to make a mishap something we learn from, something we grow from and something, dare I say, makes us happy?

Is It Just Me or Are You Really Crazy?!

Crazy: {krey-zee}

1.	mentally deranged; demented; insane.

2.	senseless; impractical; totally unsound

Synonyms:
ape, barmy, batty, berserk, bonkers*, cracked, crazed, cuckoo, daft, delirious, demented, deranged, dingy*, dippy, erratic, flaky, flipped, flipped out, freaked out, fruity, idiotic, insane, kooky, lunatic, mad, maniacal, mental*, moonstruck, nuts, nutty, nutty as fruitcake, of unsound mind, out of one's mind, out of one's tree, out to lunch, potty, psycho, round the bend, schizo, screw loose, screwball*, screwy*, silly, touched*, unbalanced, unglued, unhinged*, unzipped, wacky


It's strange how it works; One day you know someone, and the next day you don't. How long do you have to know someone until their true colors come out? A week? A month? A year? A lifetime?

One day they are completely normal, and the next: cuckoo, insane, unbalanced, unglued and a whole slew of words listed above.

It makes you wonder; can you ever know someone too long? Are we all just crazy and it just takes some of us longer than others for our true colors to come out? Or is it just a select few of us that can hide it incredibly well. These people know that they only way they will be successfully admitted into society is by hiding their insanity. Blaming it on other people; 'oh, she's so crazzzyyy!,' 'Pssh, can you believe that imbecile!'


I never thought I'd say this, but cheers to the crazy people who admit they've got issues. Congrats to the lady wearing a tiara to the meetings. High five goes to the guy who talks to himself on the subway. Thumbs up to the guy running down a crowded street in his underwear. Because you know what, at least you'll never allow these people to get close. You won't have coffee with a lady wearing a tiara (unless she's the new Miss America,) you won't go to the movies with the guy who talks to himself on the subway, and most definitely won't kiss the guy who runs down the street in his underwear (for no good reason.)

You won't lower your defenses and then all of a sudden *WHACK*--that was their all kinds of crazy hitting you on the head.

How long will it take for you? How long will it take for me?

I'm out of questions. I'm out of answers. But I have learned one thing: Sometimes it's not a matter of if but when.

Rosie

So much for love, I guess I've been wrong
But it's alright because I'm moving on

I've got my car all packed
with cassette tapes and sweaters
and loose change and cheap cigarettes

I'm gonna stop at every truck stop
and make small talk with waiters and truck driving men.

I'm gonna fall asleep in the backseat
with no one around but me and my friends

It's gonna be so grand
It's gonna be just like my wedding day

Yea I've had enough of love
it's been good to give up so good to be good to myself

I'm gonna get on the highway with no destination
but plenty of vision in mind

I'm gonna drive to the ocean
go skinny dipping blow kisses to Venus and mars

I'm gonna stop at every bar
and flirt with the cowboys in front of their girlfriends.

So much for love i guess
I've been wronged but it's alright
because I'm moving on

I'm gonna drive over hills and mountains
and canyons and boys that keep bringing me down

I'm gonna drive under skyline and sunshine
drink good wine at vineyards
and get asked to dance

I'm gonna be carefree and let nothing pass me by
never ever again.

It's gonna be so grand.
It's gonna be so grand.
It's gonna be just like my wedding day.

What's Next?

I sit here on a Saturday night; glass of Merlot to my left, tatter tots to my right and I wonder:

What's next?
Will I be happy?
Will I be sad?
Will I move on?
Will I be stronger?
Will I learn from this?
Will it change me?
Has it changed me?
Has it helped me?
Has it harmed me?


After you've dedicated so much time and energy to one single endeavor and it fails, it is very hard to imagine what's next. You're left with limitless possibilities. You're left with no possibilities. You're a paradox. A new person awaiting further self-discovery. You wonder if you have anything else to give and if it will all be okay again.

You know it will be okay again. When will it be okay? How will it be okay? Who will make it okay? Life is full of so many questions with very little answers.

I sit here and reflect on a past full of happiness and sadness; on a future full of hope and fear and I know, despite it all, that everything will be okay and that whatever is next I can finally-- and with certainty handle.

Confusion's Illusions

Confusion: kuhn-fyoo-zhuhn
1. A lack of clearness or distinctness: a confusion in his mind between right and wrong. 2. Perplexity; bewilderment.

In life, unfortunately, we all have to make decisions; big ones, small ones, important ones, dull ones, ones that effect us, ones that effect others, ones that may cost a lot of money, ones that may cost a lot of pain. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Going through an inevitable, and severe "quarter-life crisis," I have encountered many forks in the road. ("How come we've reached this fork in the road and it cuts like a knife?"-FOTC) I've toyed with all the various paths my decisions may offer. I've mulled. I've prayed. I've cried.

Is everyone as confused as I am at some point in their life? I feel that a lot of people drive through the freeway of life at 75 mph completely aware of where they're going in life and why. Unfortunately, I don't. I drive 30 on the freeway of life constantly checking my compass and atlas to see if I'm going the right way. I'm never sure. I always turn around. I think things through. I convince myself it's a smart decision. I think the same thing through. I convince myself it's a bad decision.

Is confusion an illusion and a security blanket for some, i.e; me. Are we scared of really knowing if what we are doing is right or wrong? Are we scared of the possibility of failure? Is confusion an illusion of bewilderment? Do we really know what is the best or worst for us but refuse to acknowledge it?

Are we all masochists?

The Comeback Kid

Comeback: /ˈkʌmˌbæk/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [kuhm-bak]

–noun

1.	a return to a former higher rank, popularity, position, prosperity, etc.: The ex-champion kept trying to make a comeback.

2.	a clever or effective retort; rejoinder; riposte: That was a great comeback the comedian made to the hecklers.

After a long absence, I'm back. After perusing my old posts, I realized, 'GOSH, I miss writing!' So, here I am. I hope to keep the momentum going. I hope to provoke thought and emotion, while channeling my feelings in a proactive and hopefully, amusing way.

Questions, comments and suggestions always help motivate me. So, question, comment and suggest!

Pain & Suffering

People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.

Dedicated to MD!

Poetry In Motion #2

O Tell Me The Truth About Love- W. H. Anden

When it comes, will it come without warning?
Just as I'm picking my nose?

Will it knock on my door in the morning
Or tread in the bus on my toes?

Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?

O tell me the truth about love.

Blankity Blank

Ever have so much to say that you can't think of anything to say? For the last month, my mind has been a swirling mess of thoughts. Its spectrum of colors are endless. Its maze of logic is just a notted ball of confusion. Its grasp and comprehension of its surroundings and influences are muddied and hazy.


Am I:

Thoughtless? Most definitely not.

Helpless? Only when I let myself think I am.

Exxasperated? Definitely.


In such a short time I've learned so much. In such a short time I've grown up. In such a short time I've given up on old ideals and adopted new ones. In such a short time I've my head hurt immensely from over-ponderence. In such a short time I've discovered myself. In such a short time, I've become happy.

Strang-er

Living in a metropolis, little surprises me. I may be mildly amused by the crazy screaming old lady on the train with a pushcart full of kittens. I may look twice at the occasional hobo playing the drums on a parking meter. I may even run for cover when a young, well dressed man "pops a squat" in the corner of the train and decides that nature must run its course NOW.

However, today in my heavily medicated state (details provided when asked) I was parusing the Costco website in search of reasonably priced electronics when I stumbled on a tab. The tab was entitled "Funerals." So, next to furniture, appliances, dried foods and other household goods, you can go and buy dear old Uncle Arnie a lovely cherry casket complete with all the proper cushioning and size requirements that any wholesaler could provide.


Do you think they take returns on such large items?

I asked, and you responded!

Here was the assignment: Without using a quote from a movie or song (Lyss was one exception) fill in the blank of the following statement:

If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life.....

...Never make a pretty woman your wife- A.H.

...Never ask me for advice-T.H.

...You must learn how to love-A.G.

...Cut your cheese with a knife-M.S.

...Never wear leather pants. They chaff-A.S.

...You should probably quit now-L.D.

...Be thankful for what you have, while still appreciating that the future will bring changes ~ and that's okay too- M.C.

...Get on some form of medication-N.D.

...Just be yourself and love yourself-S.L.

...To thine own self be true-F.D.

...Love Jehovah with your whole heart, mind and soul-K.G.

...Actually find something you like to do and do it for the rest of your life...that goes for jobs and men-L.K.

...Make sure you're always spiritually satisfied-J.D.

...Then you should of stayed with me :) Does that work?-S. C.

...Work hard and be honest and loving-S.A.

...Read the Bible!-C.H.

...Find a hot country, a model and a couple million pounds-S.C.

...Hug those you love ever time you see them. Laugh hard and cry harder. Last, find something you believe in and give it your everything. Even if it may fail, your life and will have had meaning and purpose and that is worth more than any final product-A.M.

...Eat your vegetables-B.B.

...Learn new words everyday and expand your nerd capacity-S.W.

Runny, Running, Ran

Remember the days when you used to feign sickness? You would discretely hide your thermometer like a makeshift shiv in your pajamas so your parents wouldn't see it. You'd slowly make your way over to whatever light was within your four foot tall reach and then very slyly slip the thermometer's tip over the 60 watt surface.

99, 99.6, 100.1, the temperature would slowly creep up and your little round eyes would widen.

'When to stop? When to stop,' you'd frantically ask yourself.

I always thought 100.5 was a wise temperature. I never truly knew what was "too high" aside from what I saw on early 90s sitcoms. I learned that a temperature over 103 was cause to be dragged from the comfort of your Transformers bedspread and into the car for a visit to the guy who'd poke and prod you and then try and make it all better with an ultra sticky Band Aid with smiley faces on it and a balloon that would deflate as soon as you got it home.

The scariest part of this operation was displaying the thermometer's results to your parents. You didn't want to seem overeager to show them because then they'd smell the lie on you. You'd very nonchalantly walk over to your parents and very uncharacteristically put on a meek and quiet voice proclaiming the results of your self-test.

If you were selective with your sick days, your parents most likely ate this up. They instantly plucked you up off the ground, put you in bed, popped some medicine in your little lying head and then coddled you with Popsicles and your favorite movies. Oh, the good life!

When did sickness cross the line from luxury to something you avoid like the plague (no pun intended-OK maybe a little one)?

This Monday, I had my nose medically violated in ways I can't even begin to fathom spelling. At first, the idea of staying home in the comfort of my down comforter, watching old movies and drinking tea until it came out of my ears delighted me to no end. The second I left the hospital, I knew I'd like to be going anywhere but home. The idea of staying home festering in my own personal sickness no longer thrills me. The idea of wasting a day on a box of tissues, antibiotics and painkillers does nothing to hold my interest.

Why is it that everything seemed to hold more charm and promise when you were little? Being sick was a vacation; your favorite foods tasted like rare delicacies; and just a single article of clothing transformed you from child to astronaut.

On Assignment

Smiles Frowns Dancing Singing Laughing Skipping Crying

Mountains Babies Animals Tourists Locals Crazy Mundane

Sepia Black White Dark Light Night Day Hazy Clear

All of this can be captured in an instant. Our very being is encapsulated in hundreds of different photographs taken throughout the years. Most happy, some embarrassing and a few sad- all define who we are. They are the pieces to the puzzles of Us.

All willing, share with me some of your favorite moments, people or places. It can be anything from the impersonal and abstract to the personal or simple. Send me a photo that defines You and I shall post it for all to see.

Rest

Go ahead, feel me

Feel me through the cool night sky

And turn me

Across the pages in your eyes

Listen to tales of betrayal

And poems of love

Heed the songs of life

And the lore of death’s embrace

Go ahead, take a breath

Decipher the hieroglyphics

Of our unfolding story

Focused around the light

Of all dark and mysterious

Visualize the spectrum of words

Living through the motion

Of a voice in passion

Go ahead, touch me if you dare

Unraveling dreams in twilight

Allow me to stroke your mind

Where my voice may find a place to rest

Truth, Honesty & All That Smooth Jazz

A fib; the proverbial white lie. It is often used to placate the ears of those around us. It can appease their heads, and ease their hearts.

Obviously, a lie, even a small lightly colored one can have disastrous consequences. But, what of the truth? Is it possible to be too truthful, too blunt?

'Honesty is the best policy'. 'If you have nothing nice to say than don't say anything at all'.

Both of these are engraned in us from an early age. Both can go together as well as peanut butter and jelly, but unfourtunately, most people think that just because something is honest and true it is acceptable to share and impose on others.

When do we cross the line? When does it cross the line from a bestowed courtesy to an offensive stab?

Fog

I ’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there ’s a pair of us—don’t tell!
They ’d banish us, you know.


How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

"The Onion"

Apple Computers is laying legal claim to the term "pod," used in words like "podcast." Here are some other items Apple is trying to claim as its own:

• Human silhouettes
  
• Several thousand Chinese children
  
• Thinking differently
  
• The last slice of pizza
  
• The term "tunes"
  
• Any Granny Smith with a bite taken out of it
  
• The concept of sharing
  
• The pronoun "I"; Effective immediately Apple will collect royalties from anyone referring to oneself in this manner

Highlights!

This passed weekend, my congregation had the privilege of having Brother Losche give two special talks. Living in a close proximity to Bethel, I seem to have taken for granted privileges such as this and realize many people around the world, as well as throughout this very country may never see or hear a governing body member give a talk in their presence. I thought I'd pass on just some of the many useful and insightful points that he mentioned on his Saturday talk themed, "Meeting Together For Jehovah's Praise". In this talk he gave us 13 reasons why we should go to meetings.

We should go to meetings to:

• Hear and learn. Ecclesiastes 12:9

• Gain encouragement. Even those with phobias or infirmities can be strengthened by the presence of Jehovah's holy spirit. Matthew 18:15-21

• Fulfill a part of our worship to Jehovah. Psalms 144:22

• Become trained to be efficient preachers and teachers. Luke Chapter 10.

• Gain an opportunity for fellowship with Jehovah and his son Jesus. Revelation 1:20

• Come under the influence of holy spirit that we all need. Revelation 2:2,3,7

• Prove Jesus is already ruling as king. If Jesus was not ruling as king then the separation and harvest would not have started yet. Therefore, we are visible proof of Jesus' invisible rule

• Strengthen our faith through study of Biblical prophecy.

• Prove our love for Jehovah. We should not just offer up lip service (Malachi 3:14) or care to see how Jehovah will benefit us (Job 21:15) by gaining personally. We need to consider how we will benefit Jehovah. Isaiah 1:11

• Praise Jehovah. Psalm 22:22-25, Psalm 26:12. Psalm 111:1

• Support vindication of Jehovah's sovereignty. Our obligation is to be witnesses to Jehovah and his word as well as defend his word and prove Satan a liar. Being almighty, Jehovah could easily force us to go to meetings but he does not. He rules by love and likewise, he wants us to go to the meetings out of our own personal love for him.

Brother Losche also gave many experiences of faithful Christians around the world who are regular in meeting attendance despite numerous obstacles. Here are some I found commendable:

A family in Nepal lives a great distance from the kingdom hall. They have to travel an entire day on foot to make it the kingdom hall. It takes them two days to travel to and from the meetings.

One man in Ecuador had to travel six hours on horseback to and from the kingdom hall. He'd have to cross a river four times due to a lack of a bridge; often his travel was made through the jungle in the middle of the night.

Another woman in Africa would have to cross a large river alone just to get to and from the meetings. The river not only had a very strong current but had many crocodiles. Before crossing she would have to carefully examine where the crocodiles were in the river so she could plan which route to take across.

After giving us these experiences Brother Losche asked us "Would you do the same?"

The Onion

Panasonic Introduces Portable 500-Disc Changer To Compete Against iPod

The Fade Out

There are certain people in our lives that always stay within our main focus. These people are there because you as well as they chose to be put there. They want to help, to love and to care. Sometimes these people are there without us even knowing and sometimes we put them there without them even knowing. Maybe it was a simple word or act of kindness that has allowed our minds and hearts to forever burn them into our retina.

Then, there are other people. I call these people the peripherals. These people were once in our main focus but for one reason or another have drifted along to the side of our vision, or grasp and they seem to be only blurred, unidentifiable objects. We know they are there, but we don't know the import they have or even the role they want to take on for us.

Why is it that we let ourselves fade out people? Why is it that others make themselves someone to be faded out. I know personally I've faded out a person from my life. They are the candle that I keep walking farther and farther away from until eventually I have no idea where that candle went and why I even left it in the first place. Estranged relationships, especially ones that were suddenly or slowly faded out are the kinds that make you ponder years later. Most of the time, it has very little or nothing to do with a specific falling out you and the other person had. It usually was just a mutual growth of life, just in opposite directions. Is it possible for these peripheral people to become our retina's focus once more?

Second Verse Same as the First

'They built me a box to live in and painted my caricature inside.They said "this is you". I said no thank you, I'd rather be me'

Randomnicity

Weekly dose of random questions:

• If dawn breaks, does dusk come together?

• If a synchronized swimmer drowns, does her partner also have to drown?

• If sour cream is past its expiration date is it good then?

• If it's zero degrees outside today and it's supposed to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold is it going to be?

• How come you press harder on a remote control when you know the battery is dead?

Lookie, Lookie! It's The Onion!

Swimsuit Skirt Conceals Hideous Thigh Region

HUNTINGTON BEACH, CA—A swimsuit skirt successfully concealed more than six inches of upper thigh Monday, sparing hundreds of beachgoers from the sight of the mountains of hideous, cellulite-riddled flesh lurking beneath it. "That was a close one," said one non-witnessing beachgoer. "Thank goodness for that swimsuit skirt. Without it, we'd all have been done for."

Christian Rock Band Cleans Up Hotel Room

WAYCROSS, GA—Hotel staff at the Highway 82 Best Western found the suite occupied over the weekend by members of the Christian rock band Ruggid Krøss swept, dusted, scrubbed, and readied for immediate occupancy. "Bands have come through here before, but I've never seen anything like this," said housekeeping supervisor Maria Konieczna, who was called to the scene after maids expressed alarm at the carefully mended furniture, retouched bathroom-wall paint, and hospital corners the five-member evangelical group inflicted on the hotel's property. "The television was lifted up, dusted under, Windexed, and placed carefully back in the cabinet. Plus they apparently had our towels professionally laundered at their own expense. There's nothing in the manual about dealing with this type of propriety." Hotel staff are attempting to contact Ruggid Krøss' manager to return the six extra Gideon's Bibles they left in the suite's nightstands

Brooklyn Fidelity

I never loved nobody fully. Always one foot on the ground. And by protecting my heart truly, I got lost in the sounds. I hear in my mind all these voices. I hear in my mind all these words. I hear in my mind all this music.

And it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart.

And suppose I never ever met you. Suppose we never fell in love. Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft. Suppose I never ever saw you. Suppose we never ever called. Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall. Just to break my fall. Break my fall.

All my friends say that of course its gonna get better. Gonna get better. Better better better better.

Yes! No. Maybe?

Is it worth the wait?

It: love, family, travel, opportunity; basically anything that is worth or can be waited for.

We all wait. We spend nine years of our life waiting to reach double digits, 13 years to finish school. We wait in line at the store, we wait in doctor's offices. Sometimes we sing along to the smooth jazz they play, other times we peruse the golf magazines doctors seem to think everyone adores but most of the time we sit there idling, just waiting for our name to be called; waiting to be next in line; waiting to achieve that small goal we've set before us.

I'm sure some scientist has dedicated a good deal of time to finding out how many seconds, days, weeks and years each of us spend in idle waiting. I'm sure the amount of time would scare us senseless and immediately make us want to cut in line. My thought is, is anything worth the wait? How do you know if you've waited too long? My concern is, what if once you stop waiting something better comes along; some other opportunity that will take you to bigger and happier places.

For example, on a return voyage from Washington D.C. this past weekend my friends and I had decided we'd eat at the rockin' hotspot Cracker Barrel. Driving on route 95 we encountered many alternatives but we were determined. After an hour of surpressed hunger we decided it'd be wise to choose something else. We ended up at the very next place we saw, Friendlys. After eating and hopping back into the car, just some ten miles later there it was, Cracker Barrel, then another Cracker Barrel and another, and another. In a matter of thirty minutes we had encountered at least 5 of them. This, obviously, led to us questioning ourselves, our wondering if we should've just waited.

We were hungry, we were desperate. Did we settle or did we get exactly what we needed?

So I ask those who've waited, those who are waiting, those you didn't wait and those you are torn between the two, will it be worth it? In life, when is it considered settling? When is it getting exactly what we need? When is it getting exactly what we want?

Belated Onion

Boxing Gym Gives Inner-City Youths An Opportunity To Punch Each Other Indoors


BROOKLYN, NY—When 18-year-old Anthony Washington first walked into Hurricane Palmieri's Gym he knew only one way of life: using his fists on the streets. But now, thanks to his involvement in this inner-city youth boxing program, he has a new sense of purpose that comes from pummeling others head-to-head in the ring.

Palmieri, who has trained countless boxing champions, says there are no winners in unorganized street violence.

"What Palmieri taught me is that we don't have to rely on our guns or our knives," said Washington, hitting a heavy bag. "Our fists can be lethal weapons, too."

For six years, gym owner Ralph Palmieri has been turning young people caught up in the violence of Brooklyn's rough-and-tumble East New York neighborhood into disciplined, trained fighters.

"Kids need to see that they don't have to give in to the status-driven gang hierarchy by punching each other bloody for no good reason," said 65-year-old Palmieri. "Here, they learn to believe in their own ability to deliver a barrage of well-timed hooks and powerful uppercuts, until they knock their opponent unconscious in an organized tournament."

Palmieri said he's following in the footsteps of his late father, Dominic "Hurricane" Palmieri, who was tired of watching young men throwing their lives away with senseless violence in the streets, and wanted them to see what they're really made of over nine minutes of violence in the ring.

According to Palmieri, the thing he's most proud of, beyond showing his kids how to cause the most damage to an opponent, is teaching them, often for the first time in their young lives, how to take care of themselves.

Palmieri, who has trained countless boxing champions, says there are no winners in unorganized street violence.

"Our guys can stitch up an inch-deep gash or reset a broken nose faster than anybody," Palmieri said. "You'd be amazed how many young people never knew they had to ice their hands after an hour and a half of pounding on someone else's face."

East New York High School junior Jamal Strothers, who used to regularly come home covered with scrapes and bruises, said the three days a week he spends at Hurricane's has taught him discipline.

"I would get into wild fights all the time, trying to punch anything that moved, but I've learned that it doesn't have to be that way," Strothers said. "Now I wait for the right moment and exploit my opponent's weakness, over and over and over, until the ref has to call the fight."

The boy's mother, Florence Strothers, said she's thrilled her son will appear next month on the undercard in a night of fights organized by Palmieri, nothing he has gotten away from "dangerous and shady characters" on the street who only use him to make them money.

"I can finally sleep soundly at night, knowing my son is in safe hands," she said. "Young black men need to see that violence is not the only way, that they can follow in the footsteps of heroes like Mike Tyson." "We'll all be all praying for a first-round KO," she added.

Palmieri says several "very eager" Las Vegas-based scouts will visit Hurricane Palmieri's in the coming weeks.

"Just picturing one of my boys, totally exhausted, covered in sweat and blood under those bright lights—it gives me chills," Palmieri said. "Let's be real, most of these kids will never go pro. But every one of them will gain valuable punching skills they'll need to get them through the rest of their lives."

Palmieri says that if he can change one kid's mind about when to turn down a fight, he's done his job.

"I don't want them to see people from other schools, gangs, or neighborhoods as enemies to clobber on till they're black and blue," he said. "I want them to see them as opponents to defeat in the ring with a relentless flurry of jabs, counters, and body blows that leave them out cold on the mat."

Doctor! Doctor! I've Got Nostalgia, Is There a Cure?

Childhood summers in New York City; there's nothing like 'em; The fire hydrants bubbling with activity, you and your cousins adorning pink jellied shoes and your tu-tu style swimsuits to run down the Park Slope streets chasing "Mr. Softee", your uncle Mario almost setting his hand and Camero on fire with illegal fireworks, the stoop-top barbecues, the rides and hot dogs at Coney Island; all of these things remind me of youth. All these things remind me of good times

Chilling in the northeastern cold is something unwelcome to my warm Caribbean blood. I loathe the cold. I hate the way city "activity" turns the snow into a rainbow of colors extending from black to gray to yellow. I hate the little old lady-walk I must do to avoid falling on the ice each day. I hate the incessant Christmas carols being sung by pestering fake happy people on stereos that are seemingly everywhere. I've always hated winter.

Now that we've gotten that all out of the way, something about this wretched and miserable season brings warm and gooey memories to my mind as of late. It reminds me of heaping cups of hot coco, trips to isolated and rustic Pennsylvania cabins, snow angels, snowmen, cookies, long movie days consisting of viewings made up of the words "trilogy", "compilation", or "collection". It reminds me of family. It reminds me of home.

Normally by this time of year I'd be having the usual feelings of apprehension, and grief over the loss of the warmth and sun but because of this sudden nostalgia, my feelings towards Old Man Winter have become rather fond. I look forward to the slow shuffle of life. I look forward to the bulky sweaters and unfashionable waterproof footwear. I look forward to making snow angels and taking long drives to nowhere. I look forward to slowing down and remembering the simpler days, the winter days.

Five Questions To Scoff At & Ponder

My ultra new, shiny and weekly installment. Talk amongst yourselves.

• Why do people talk about ‘girlie’ things but never ‘boyie’ things?

• If Pinocchio said, “My nose is about to grow”, what would happen?

• Why do ‘a fat chance’ and ‘a slim chance’ mean the same thing?

• Why do "skinny pants" make so many look fat?

• If you think you’re a hypochondriac, then are you one or not?

Smithereens

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour

But heaven knows I'm miserable now

I was looking for a job, and then I found a job

And heaven knows I'm miserable now

In my life

Why do I give valuable time

To people who don't care if I live or die?

Two lovers entwined pass me by

And heaven knows I'm miserable now

In my life

Oh, why do I give valuable time

To people who don't care if I live or die?

What she asked of me at the end of the day

Caligula would have blushed

"Oh, you've been in the house too long" she said

And I (naturally) fled

In my life

Why do I smile

At people who I'd much rather kick in the eye?

In my life

Oh, why do I give valuble time?

Onion Breath

As always, The Onion.


Guy 'Just Giving You A Hard Time' Truly Despises You

RED BANK, NJ—Several coworkers have confirmed that colleague Eric Grasso's daily ribbing stems from a deep-seated hatred of you and everything you stand for.
"Hey champ, pretty fancy shirt you got there," said Grasso as you walked past the break room wearing your slightly glossy blue dress shirt. "Going clubbing tonight, or are you wearing that cheap cologne just for me? Kidding. C'mon, you know I love you."
The news will not stop Grasso from pretending to push you in front of a moving bus during your lunch break later today, while half the office, including the woman from Accounting you were planning to ask out, looks on.

Voter Turnout Reaches All-Time Low Of 17

NEW YORK—Poll data indicates the 2006 mid-term elections were marked by the lowest turnout ever, with only 17 total votes cast. "Some 24 percent of those who showed up were registered Independents between the ages of 39, 54, 71, and 73, while, surprisingly, less than six percent appeared to be soccer moms driving a green 2000 Plymouth Voyager," said Harrison Cullers of the Advance Logistics Research Group. "This really shows how much impact a get-out-the-vote campaign that averages $2.5 million per voter can have on the important Milwaukee-resident-Dave-Anderson demographic." Critics say the low voter turnout was only exacerbated by problems with Diebold electronic voting machines, citing one Ohio district in which a local Democrat received negative 12 votes.

Area Man Achieves Your Dream

CHARLOTTE, NC—After almost two decades of dreaming on your part, 34-year-old Stephen Hochenko achieved your goal of opening up a small bookstore and café last Thursday, coincidentally in the exact location you had planned to open yours.
"This proves that no matter what your dreams are, someone out there can achieve them if they just do a little homework, save their money, and believe in themselves," said a satisfied Hochenko as he arranged tables and chairs for a Monday night wine tasting and reading featuring acclaimed author Neil Gaiman. "I'm happier than you can even imagine or will probably ever experience yourself."
Hochenko joins a long list of people who have achieved your dreams, including the creators of YouTube, Grand Prix motorcycle-racer Valentino Rossi, and the people who married your longtime crush and potential soul mate in April 1998, June 2001, and last Saturday

Support Your Local Russians

всепокорно

"I am by far the most humble person I know", exclaimed the girl.

Moses has been notably mentioned in the Bible for his humility and this makes me wonder if his superior humility could be mildly attributed to him learning a foreign tongue.

It's amazing how easily a foreign alphabet can bring you to your knees. Verbs suddenly terrify you and words longer than 8 characters make you want to go running for the hills or in my case, Cobble Hill.

Communication is hard enough in your native tongue, but trying to sing, converse and praise Jehovah all in a foreign language truly make for a humbling experience. You stumble and you fall a great many times. You've been reduced to 3 word comments at the meetings and a presentation consisting of the words read, you, please and interesting.

I've recently undertaken the task of learning a foreign tongue. As many of you are well aware, Russian is the language of choice. (I know I'm awesome) Many ask why and instead of giving the long and technical answer that I've been reciting like a hym lately I will just tell you all I have a deep love for vodka and cabbage and decided that Russian would not only be the wisest choice but the most obvious.

I've always read and had many first hand testimonies about how humbling a foreign language can be. I've been in lands where the language was unknown to me, and even in neighborhoods where no one speaks a lick of English, but for some reason experiencing it all firsthand for an extended period of time is quite different. Having little kids outread you in reading class can really make you scratch your head in bewilderement and horror.

I have always been impressed with people who take the time out to learn a foreign tongue to bring the good news to people around the world but now it seems my appreciation has grown even deeper. The level of dedication, self-sacrifice and of course, humility is daunting.

I have long years ahead of me until I will have even slightly mastered this complex language but I'm sure the plethoura of pickles and hugs from babushkas will make it all go a lot faster.

So I ask you: Support your local Russians and eat more potatoes ;-)

How About Those Onions!

Your weekly dose of The Onion

Boy, Dolphin No Longer On Speaking Terms

KEY WEST, FL—Jimmy O'Dell, 9, and his animal friend Skippy, a bottlenose dolphin, are no longer on speaking terms, the boy said Monday. "I told Skippy I wanted to ride his back out to Buccaneer's Cove to look for buried treasure," O'Dell said. "But Skippy kept squeaking that it wasn't safe. He's always contradicting me, and I'm sick of it. That finned freak is dead to me." Skippy refused to comment.

Household Death Toll Climbs To One

NEW HAVEN, CT—Police announced Monday that the accidental death of 68-year-old Joseph Lang increased the death toll at 320 E. Oak St. to a staggering one. "We retrieved Mr. Lang's body from his bathtub, where it appears he slipped and hit his head," police officer Chris Ramsey said. "Although we don't expect to find any additional victims, we're continuing our 48-hour search of the two-story home, just in case." Lang is survived by his wife Helen, who still resides in the deathtrap

Guy Just Totally Smoking Weed On Street

MADISON, WI—Graduate student Danny Lindner, 26, reported that he was shocked Monday to see a guy just totally smoking pot right on the street. "This dude was, like, just walking down the sidewalk puffing on a joint, right out in the open," Lindner told roommate Kyle Rath. "I could totally smell it. It was so weird. What was he thinking?" Lindner added that it was broad daylight out.

October

Make her a flower in late December when the sun is not shining on her

Write her a love song and play it all day long to remind her of all that she is worth
Never, never leave her

Take her on long drives for ice cream by seasides and give her your coat when she is cold

Tell her you miss her when you're close enough to kiss her and that you'd walk a thousand miles to tell her so
Never, never leave her

Take photographs of her on Brooklyn Streets in October when her nervous smile is slightly curved

Somedays when she is slightly down tell her it's ok to frown, it makes you just fall more in love with her
Never, never leave her

Don't Give Me No Comic Book Sad Looks No More

leering, steel drums, public toilet, begging, tipping, yelling, flirting, sleeping, dancing, singing, fighting, belching, crying, laughing, holding, scolding, flashing, reading, swaying, falling, avoiding, inviting


performers, vagrants, hipsters, businessman, yuppies, children, elderly, families, crabby teens, students, lovers, leavers, workers, druggies, muggers, the lewd, the oppressed, the weak, the downtrodden, the strong, the kind, the merciless, the loved , the unloved

A thousand people cross my path, each more different than the next.
' Are they happy? Are they sad? Will they hurt me? Do they smile? Do they ever stop smiling?'

It's amazing how overexposure can lead to desensitization. I sit back, I relax and I enjoy the show.

Some days my head hurts from keeping up with the gossip, problems and fits people seem to have in public. Some days I want to reach out and hug everyone. Some days I'm grateful not to have a blunt object in my possession.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is the New York City Public Transportation System.

Knowin' Onions

Your weekly and delightful dose of The Onion

This week's feature: Local News

Scuba Diver Expressing Either Joy Or Terror

KEY WEST, FL—Fellow scuba divers who witnessed Sam Gemitter's wild gesticulations, inaudible vocal noises, and bulging, wide-open eyes, remained unclear Monday if he was expressing either joy or terror at the sight of something he saw behind a giant coral reef. "He swam back to us pretty fast, but I didn't know if he was trying to get away from what he saw, or if he wanted us to come see," snorkeler Brian Celli said. "He was definitely excited one way or the other." As of press time, Gemitter had not returned his equipment to the scuba-rental booth, either because he is still enjoying the beauty of the ocean depths or is dead

Area Man Misses Rental Car

SCHAUMBURG, IL—One week after returning to his 1994 Acura Integra following a business trip in Indianapolis, Schaumburg resident Gerry Davis, 52, said Tuesday that he still longs for the brief, exciting two-day period during which he had the opportunity to drive a blue 2006 Toyota Corolla. "That car had everything—leather seats, a moon-roof, a thing that tells you the temperature, even a CD player," said Davis, who fell in love with the vehicle after experiencing its "sparkling clean interior" and "the calming sound the turn signals made." "Plus, there was this thing on the keychain that lets you unlock the doors from 30 feet away. Man, I wish I had one of those." Davis admitted that he cannot get the image out of his head of another man driving the car that was his for that one short, magical weekend.