the days are getting shorter

wherever you park, the first thing you notice is the smell of salt prance into your nose.  on the  eve of christmas, laurence harbor was empty.  it was a perfect, lazy calm.  even the waves refused to put in the effort to rise up and crash onto the shore.  with no one around to put on a show for, they idly rolled in with soothing informality.  how long could i stay and watch the tide gently flood in and out?  only the changing colors in the sky were evidence to the passing of time.

 

say goodnight and go

i feel strangely empty.

jessie just left.  there ends our roomate-age for a looooooooooong time.

megan already left for home and lisa isn't here.  the loneliness is consuming!  i needed to turn the music down because it just seems to intensify the bareness of the walls as it fills the abandoned room.  the tv was left on, and now it blares for no one - mocking my emotions with its beaming food network stars.  i could sure use one of those cookies, rachel ray - thanks.  even the empire state building and brooklyn bridge seem to be looking back at with me with detachment tonight.  they know.

gahhh!  i need to turn my attention to positive thoughts.  like being a bum for a month.  woot.

and...

Via Micheli!

doesn't that sound pretty?  i found out today that's where i'm living next semester :) 

making merry

DANBURY, Conn. - Santa Claus says that a woman who sat on his lap was naughty not nice.

A Santa at the Danbury Fair mall said the woman groped him.

The security officer at the mall said Santa Claus has been sexually assaulted.

Police did not give the name of the disconcerted Santa, but they said he is 65 and felt badly because children were waiting to see him.

...

Police quickly found and identified [her] because the woman was described as being on crutches.

color my world

"But how much time could a man spend remembering the best of boyhood?  What about enjoying the best of old age?  Or was the best of old age just that - the longing for the best of boyhood..."

- Philip Roth, Everyman

---

i can tell why my professor chose not to discuss adulthood much in class and had us write a paper on it instead.  everything good declines - it's a real downer.  with the exception of wisdom, aging is pretty much a cognitive descent for most.  and don't forget the wrinkles and responsibility!

it is depressing to sit around and realize that right now is the height of our lives, and the feeling of oldness will only sink in deeper and deeper after a certain point.  (people have been giving me the idea that point may be as uncomfortably near as twenty-one).

after hardly two decades of experience, i hear people yearn to return to days filled with crayons and nap time.  as a kid, i'd always be "saving" my best coloring books (for what exactly, i still don't know).  refusing to color in  them, i'd tuck them away with affectionate care, only flipping through them every now and again to visualize which of my aspiring ninety-six crayons would, one supposed day, make it onto a particular page.  eventually i grew a bit, just looked at them one day, and was like, "wow, i do not even want to color in you anymore, sesame street special christmas edition coloring book of fun."  and then i hated myself.  i had unnecessarily robbed myself of a joy i'd continously tease myself about.  and for what?  was i afraid of the consequences of enjoying myself? 

unreasonably cautious - that pretty much sums up how i lived my childhood years.  my pleasure pilfering prudence very early on has already manifested into a fire for letting myself... have fun.  i realize now i'm often unconsciously making up for prior self-imposed, but mostly parental, restrictions.  (it's true - if you don't let your kids do anything, they'll want to do everythinggg!)  i just don't want to look back and feel like my life was full of empty coloring books.

the only thing i can imagine that would be worse than longing for the days of youth would be to have nothing to long for.

spectacular views

good moods make even the strangest things aesthetically appealing to my mind and senses.  i love it.

be happy.  it makes everything you look at so beautiful.

the next two weeks are going to be hellish, but somehow i'm okay with that.  maybe this is the high spirits talking, but i'm going to try and get a head start on things for once in my life so jessie doesn't end up handing me cups of freaky tasting coffee that she later reveals to contain mysterious additives (crackkk) to keep me up all night again.  what a good roommate that one is.  i requested a triple for next semester so in case i hate one of my roommates, i can form an alliance with the other one revolving around how terrible the one i hate is.  many a relationship or conversation seem to blossom out of mutual dislikes.  the result?  collaborative bashing.  humans are meanies.  wait wait, i'm in a positive mood!  sike, humans are a-w-e-s-o-m-e.

same number, same hood

During rush hour, I know that the majority of everyone else on the 139 bus is heading home to good ol' dirty jerz after finishing up their assorted corporate 9 to 5's as I notice loosened ties, kicked off heels and struggles to sink into pseudo-comfortable positions.  NJ transit is terribly overpriced - I spent 60ish bucks going home thrice this week (which is another story entirely).  For that much, they could at least attempt make where I have to sit look a little less like a place where rainbow eating bulimics decided to purge themselves.  However, the unyielding nature of the garish seats doesn't really get in the way of most people passing the fuck out.  Turnpike isn't exactly scenic (but it isn't all landfills either - that's just one part.. ONE PART I SAY!!!) so what is there left to do?

Thinkity-think-think.  

Since every time I took the bus this week was not during rush hour, what I thought about was why the hell all these people were going to NJ or NY at these most awkward of hours?!?  I somehow doubt that they too were running back and forth trying to persuade a disagreeable father to complete a single, undemanding piece of paperwork.  Quite a motley crew of ladies and fellas littered the 139 on each of my anxiety-filled voyages.  I'm sure they each had really interesting reasons for being there, so I entertained myself by guessing what those might be haha.  I imagine detailed life stories for some.  Such are the consequences of being an unaccompanied bus rider.

I think most people experience this sort of curiosity somewhere.  I get it everyday when I ride the NYU bus to campus.  I see the same people all the time.  I know their class times, styles of dress, phone voices, slight mannerisms, and even what type of ipod they have - but not their names.  I wonder what their lives are like outside the realm of the 15 minute seated ride in which I have come to "know" them.

I want to toy with this kind of curiosity for my final video project.  However.. I think filming would be a problem.  Might be kinda weird (<-understatement).  Maybe something else along the same lines - something obscure but relatable.  Like how people always wonder about who will miss them if they die or if they have lived a fulfilling life before doing something like boarding a plane (or jumping out of one).  Or what would happen if that slight turn of your stomach as you crossed a subway grate gained justification as you actually fell through to the murky, most shady of depths below? Hmmm.  Maybe I'm realizing I want to explore one of those random fears everyone knows is unreasonable but can't help but think anyway.  Anything come to your mind?  Hit me with yo thoughts.