Thursday, November 18, 2010


i woke up this morning from a dream in which i was hosting a morning talk show, feeling the searing pain of a hangover while interviewing president obama, and the first words out of my mouth as i emerged from bed were, "tonight i'm going to see marie osmond sing the hits from 'les mis'" and i'm not sure what any of this means, but there it was and there it will always be.

i think subway seats should be reserved for those holding a special ticket, one passengers pay extra for, and for which they must qualify. i use my commute time constructively, as many of my fellow passengers. i write on the train every morning, words that form the foundation of what will one day be history's greatest literary masterpiece and when i can't sit because some geriatric would rather take up two and a half seats so she can SLEEP the whole way there, a whole new magma-laden pocket of rage arises and i shake with ire and anxiety. i must give off heat.
so to get one of these special passes, one must take an aptitude test to make sure one qualifies, submit writing samples, etc. this man who is always on my D train, who must embody at least 5 different ethnicities, makes jewelry on the way to work every morning. he is talented. he should have a seat. i write every morning. i make
beautiful words. i make people happy. i should have a seat. a woman who insists on wearing the same tweed burgundy tam every day of the week, with every outfit, has been reading the power of now deserves a seat, as she'll no doubt spread her newfound knowledge of self-awareness with the rest of the world. we should all sit together.
miss mabel williams, who parks her 3 foot derriere over the span of two seats and treats her 15 minute subway ride as if it were a private sleep chamber, should not have a seat. it's called tylenol PM and it's available over the counter. go to bed earlier. there's no more "golden girls" to watch at 8am every morning, at least until Christmas is over, so sleep an extra half hour. there are options to being more alert, and stealing two seats from me is not one of them.

i've said my peace and it feels like a huge burp after more than my helping of dessert.


Wednesday, November 17, 2010

sitting pretty

my fascination with women applying their makeup on the subway lent an interesting thought today. i noticed that, no matter who the woman is, how much makeup she is applying, what forms her aesthetic inspiration (gwyneth paltrow vs. elvira) or who she wishes to channel as she leaves her subway vanity fully made up, she always forms the same serious, almost grave-like stare devoid of movement. this makes her look like a statue.

veddy eenteresteeng.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

the light at the end...

just became so insignificant when compared to the string of environmentally-friendly LED lights that line the inside of the tunnel. just saying.

so today is special because i thought of something fantastic before bed last night--i'm getting all transecndent on your asses, so get ready.
as i drifted off to sleep, one last thought poked its pointy head through the black velvet curtains of sleep: i am. and before i could interrupt with a, "what?" he said, "i am here."
duh. so am i. then i realized my pointy-headed sleep character was, in fact, me, as he lives in my mind and is a product of my inner manifestation of thought. but "here" took on a new meaning, as if a scroll were unfurled before me and a golden explanation shone forth. i can never be there. only here. because once i reach there, wherever there may be,whether it's a goal set 20 years from now, or a location two feet away, the point from which i projected my desire to be there will be a place i was that now exists in the past, and the past does not, in fact exist. (memories exist, but the past cannot physically exist).
so i will always be here. i can be there, but when i am there i am actually here because it is in my present, the only time in which i can physically exist.
i love that. it speaks volumes in favor of equanimity. releasing one's actions into the world without the faintest concern of their effect, a contentment brought on by one's ability to release such actions from a source of inner peace.

also, the other day when i was walking, i noticed i had harbored a rather annoying rock in my shoe for several hours, and even though i was mere feet from the subway station i was about to descent into, i stopped, took my shoe off, tipped out the stone, and realized how precious that moment was. and how overdue.

life takes on new meaning when it is weighted with reason. i feel like a word that a writer deliberates underlining. the word screams for more definition, practically jumping off the screen, begging, pleading for recognition from all the other words, and finally, the writer highlights the word, clicks the underline button, and voila! that word stands out loud and proud.
meeting my gian paolo has given me that definition. i feel a source of inner light that grew dim suddenly roar to life. the tunnel i had been navigating isn't just illuminated, it's dotted with colorful bursts of light like endless strings of holiday lights, adding that evocative touch that only holiday lights can, in an unexpected yet yearned for way. like seeing such lights at a summer party. the holidays aren't a present thought, especially in the middle of july, but those lights warm an inner part of every attendee. something we all want, and when we receive it, something we all find we need.
as does the sweet wine that fuels such joviality.

Xs and Os to all
(note new signature)