Monday, September 26, 2011

I hope you are lucky enough to hold the most fragile thing in the world...Love

If you can remember a time you were in love, and you can still smile about it--then it wasn't lost at all. It's never going to go away. And that makes you one of the luckiest people in the world. Some people never find good love--some people never find love at all.

I wish someone had told me those exact words when I was younger. Instead I made friendships with all the wrong people. I became best friends with Joey and Dawson, I invited Zack and Kelly over for playtime, I asked Lucas and Brooke to go out with me every Wednesday night, and I went on endless dates with Cory and Topanga. While they each offered me escape from real life, from dealing with the bullies at school, from dealing with the loneliness--they also offered me a number of terrible an imagination of how the world really spins:

1. You should definitely have a group of six friends. The gender breakdown doesn't really matter, just as long as that group of six friends can be the root of one long-lasting relationship.

2. You can skip class and get away with it ALL the time.

3. You will have a teacher or principal that actually becomes your best friend. (I think this explains why I am Facebook friends with many teachers dating back as far as 5th grade). (Please see 1. Pacey's English Teacher girlfriend. 2. Mr. Belding. 3. Mr. Feeny).

4. If you do complete the task of having your ONE group of SIX friends, then your group is bound to go through every single teenage issue: IE: (Teen pregnancy-please see Haley in One Tree Hill; Abby for rehab in Dawson's Creek; Zack for drunk driving accident in Saved by the Bell; and Cory and Topanga for high school engagement: And we can't forget about school shootings, sex with your English teacher, death from illness, divorce, stars of the high school basketball team, becoming valedictorian, etc).

5. You absolutely WILL fall in love and get married to someone you met in high school. It may not be the person everyone thinks you will marry--but you WILL marry someone from your high school group. (Please see Joey and Pacey; Zack and Kelly; Lucas and Peyton; Haley and Nathan Cory and Topanga)

The truth is it doesn't work this way at all--not one bit. In fact, every time I have fallen in love it's been not only with people (who I didn't even go to high school with)--but with places--and memories.

Love is much bigger than the cliche teen drama.

It's the place you visit--and one day tell yourself you will return to.

It's the person you shared all your secrets with--even if you knew them for just three months. And it's the memories you look back on--and smile about, even though you know you can never go back. It's not something you imagine, and it's not something you physically hold in your hands...but it's the most fragile thing in the world.

And if you can find it. Well you are a lucky one.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

"It's better than drinking alone"

He’s dressed in an orange button down shirt and he is wearing a blazer in order to cover a coffee stain, a stain that I notice only when he pulls back the bottom left part of his jacket. He is waiting by the clock—yes that clock—the one in the train station you see in all the movies where a boy meets a girl, yes that storyline, in that big city…that storyline, in that train station, in that big city, where they fall in love.

I can tell he has noticed me awkwardly staring off into space, alone against the wall, that is placed perfectly between tracks 16 and 17. I can tell this because he is awkwardly looking at me and then away as I catch his eye.

I’ve lost my train of thought as I watch the track numbers, the train lines, and the final destinations rotate on the board—the world moves while I sit still…still and alone.

“So who are you waiting for?”

A voice interrupts my already distracted state.

I probably could have thought of something witty to say to this stranger, this stranger who is wearing an old dirtied pair of converse, but I don’t, and instead, I look up and I realize it’s the man I was exchanging awkward glances with. I pull down my headphones.

“No one,” I say.

“Oh come on, a pretty girl in Grand Central, alone, surely you are waiting for SOMEONE.”

He takes a seat next to me.

I look at him, he’s got ruffled brown hair like the main character in Almost Famous. “Well we are all waiting for someone, aren’t we? But today, I am not expecting a familiar face. Let’s be honest—Justin Timberlake is on two billboards in my subway station—he’s the only familiar face I see anymore.”

He laughs. “Honestly, though?”

“Honestly. Today, I am just looking for a lot of unfamiliar faces that are experiencing a lot of familiar feelings as me.”

“Well aren’t you just chipper,” his green eyes are glowing.

“Okay, pretty boy—who are you waiting for so patiently here in the great Grand Central?”

“I’m not.”

“Oh…so you can be here all alone…but I can’t?”

“I’m not patiently waiting—I am impatiently waiting. I got stood up.”

I think to myself…great, stood up, now he thinks I am the rebound. Couldn’t I have just been waiting for a train? Couldn’t I have just lied and said I was waiting for my boyfriend? Couldn’t I have just not looked so damn lonely. I should have smiled more while I was sitting alone. I should have had a book out. I should have just not awkwardly stared at him—and then away.

“I hope you aren’t hoping that I was stood up too so that we could play this out like a silly movie.”

“No. I was thinking sitting was a better option than standing. My feet are killing me. I really need a new pair of shoes.”

He is right…He does need a new pair of shoes. I look around, all the stair cases are empty…and some walls are bare. “You had other options…”

“Well, if we are sharing this feeling called loneliness, we might as well not be drinking it alone.”

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Memorializing the Past, Envisioning the Future

It's not every day that you wake up and plan to visit a graveyard of thousands of people--but yesterday I did. Yesterday, I visited the 9/11 Memorial where just over 10 years ago innocent people, heros, and every day workers lost their lives as three of the center's buildings collapsed after two planes crashed into the Twin Towers. The Memorial recognizes all those who died that day on each of the two planes that his the towers, those who were in the buildings, bystanders, silent heros, and those that were on the other two planes that crashed into the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania.

It's nearly unimaginable what America would look like now if 9/11 had never happened, what the news would be focused on, how many people would still be in New York City, what our economy would look like, what kids would be learning in schools, what our tolerance in terms of equality might be, what disaster or tragedy may have happened instead.

It's a wonder how many troops lives we could have left unharmed, what the front page of the New York Times would be, each and every day since then--what millions of photos of New York may look like now, who our president might have been from 2004 through 2008.

The truth is that the moment the first plane hit the Twin Towers was the moment America's lives were forever changed--the moment our world became a little more fuzzy--the moment things came crumbling down.

When the teacher I had, at the time of the attacks, recently emailed me, he told me that he
asked his current 8th grade class questions about 9/11--and some of them didn't know how many planes had crashed. For all they knew was that they had been in a war since the moment they could say the word..."war."

I hope that one day the kids I have can visit this site and not be in a war, that they can talk about how well the country is doing, how nice it is not to be battling someone else.

I know those times of calm and happy are few and far between, and that life without war, in our country, and most all other countries, is rare, but I hope for their sake they get to experience that rarity, that they get to experience front page news that makes people smile, rather than news that drives people to duck tape their windows shut. That they get to live life without terror and overhyped media dramatizing inaccuracies. I hope that they get to live with people who tell the truth. And, I hope, above all things, they get to live.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Feed the Beast: an Artists' Salon

Are your neighbors banging their drums too fiercly? Is their keyboard out of tune? Is their guitar amp—a tad too loud, and their voice slightly out of tune? Then get out of your apartment and head to a SoHo penthouse where all these sounds will blend together perfectly for a delightful evening. No earplugs necessary.

This Saturday, September 17, you can step off the alleyways and into an eloquent, fun, and easy going cocktail party as Suzy Sellout and Prints Charming SoHo put on their fourth—(and likely final) Artists' Salon, a collaboration of musicians, dancers, artists, and poets who come together to perform, mingle, and interpret a specific theme.

That theme? Feed the Beast.

A 20 dollar donation is suggested (food and wine included), but you’ll feel like the evening was worth much, much more as you “dress to the nines,” connect with creative minds, and enjoy a variety soulful entertainment.

After attending my first Salon in April, I made it a point to clear my calendar for any event that the wonderful Kathrine Becker and Ari Millner planned, crafted, and coordinated in the future. Their professionalism, organization, and careful consideration of all acts is nothing short of superb.

The bottles pop at 8:30 and the show starts at 9. Trust me, it’s not something you’ll want to miss.

How will you feed the beast?

Get started by RSVPing to Kathrine at

Then head to the event for these talented artists:

Antoni Mendezona

Joe Yoga

Jiliane Russo & Friends

Suzy Sellout

David Chang

Ben Williams

Simon Morris

Howard Haines

and more!

Curated by:

Kathrine Becker:

Ari Millner:

Sunday, September 11, 2011


#On911 I was 13 and confused. Our teachers were told to turn off their televisions, keep us away from the computers and go about the day as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. Something big. Something called a terrorist attack.

I didn't know what that meant. To me monsters and bad guys wore capes and battled Spiderman and Batman. They weren't REAL people. They were cartoons, movie characters, and fictional reads. Maybe I was naive, or maybe it was the first time I realized that the Joker could actually exist, that the Green Goblin was out there--that it didn't take super powers, that it just took a dark heart.

Today marks the 10th anniversary of the attacks on our country. That means today marks the day when my blog matches nearly every other Americans blog in telling the story of 9/11, in unmasking the villain of Osama Bin Laden, in laying out feelings and memories of that day.

It's exactly ten years later and I don't understand it much more than I did when I was 13. To me, it's still a graphic novel: Good vs evil, evil hurts good, good seeks revenge, good kills evil, evil somehow still exists.

What I do know, believe, and understand is that the lives of too many were lost that day--too many people just going to work, too many who had just said goodbye to their husbands and wives and kissed their kids on the forehead, too many who were just making a subway transfer, too many who were just sticking to routine--too many who had just boarded a plane for a get-a-way, too many who were silent heros, too many who were innocent. #TooMany.

Today we remember those people. We remember the tragedy. And we remember our pride. May those memories and this feeling of pride continue on September 12, on September 13, and every day there after. Togetherness is something I do understand.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Mi Amore

Translated to English, this means my love. But most people probably know that. Love has this way of being a universal language. So when I say "love" or "amore" I know a lot of people are tuning in. I try to avoid writing about love--I often think I am too young to know what it really is, and that I am too far past my angsty years to write a post that stares it in the face and analyzes it.

.Love is a difficult thing. Even LIKE is a difficult thing.

A friend of mine and I recently tried to analyze our future by the first letters of names of boys we have dated. We laughed trying to figure out which letters would eventually form the U and I in our lives.

But what I am starting to see, learn, and understand about love is that it's not as predictable as the alphabet is--that it's not as easy as A-B-C-D. Love is not the D after C. It is not the Z after Y. It's the confusion of the "next time won't you play with me."

Love is like trying to figure out which way is north, south, east, and west, when you walk out into a dark night with no stars in sight.

Love is an expression--a feeling--a deeper part of us. It is what we say we feel for our family, our friends, and what we search for in a soul mate. It is what we believe the sole purpose of existence has come to be: "To find love--and to be loved in return," (Moulin Rouge). It's not in people, it's in passion. It's in all.

It doesn't have to be romantic, it just has to be sincere.

Sometimes we just need to believe that love is out there. Sometimes we just have to believe that love will find us--all the while we find it. We have to believe that love is out there--that it can be easy--and less difficult--that it can be worth all the waiting. Sometimes we just all need a little love.

And sometimes we will find the crooks, crannies, and nooks of our city streets, boulevards, and subway trains. In the crevice of a booth at our favorite cafe, or in the bottom of a grocery cart we've chosen to use today. Sometimes we need to just have love find us.

I believe in love. With every part of my heart. Do you?

P.S. Check out if you are in the need for some serious love right now or want to send love to someone. It's kind of like Post Secret--only...Better.