30 Day Notice

Every time I talk to Phil, my future room mate in Brooklyn, I start to get excited all over again. Re-discovering the city through someone else's eyes, since he has never been to New York, is something I really look forward to. More than that, however, it's that sigh of relief I plan to have when everything is really said and done.

When I was a kid and we had to move again; another temporary place until...or somewhere to be "for now", my mother would always describe this perfect moment as motivation. When everything is unpacked and we'd all be sitting down to dinner in a new place. Fresh paint, clean slates, a new neighborhood with sparkling possibilities. That was the moment I'd picture in my mind as I packed up the stupid things kids pack when they can't see past the end of the week and insignificant things hold the greatest value.

I may have grown up quite a bit since then, but I still imagine that moment in my mind to keep me from going insane right now. Just looking forward doesn't' cut it. I have to look far enough not to see the dust storm I've kicked up around myself for the moment. Juuuust far enough to see the other side of it all, between the end of the last chapter and the middle of the next.

I Just Have to State...

I know there is a lot of media speculation about Michael's kid's and why they are so light and how they don't look a thing like him. Ok, so maybe little Paris Michael doesn't look much like him at all, but the oldest Prince Michael looks like him....and if that doesn't convince you, take a look at little Blanket.....

That little boy looks like a light-bright version of his father if I ever saw one...!!

Anyway, that's all I had to say on that matter...

Michael Jackson's Funeral...

So of course I watched the final goodbye to the King of Pop today at work...as I imagine many people did. I turned the volume up as I went about my tasks and stopped occasionally to see some of the footage that was live streamed thanks to ABC News.

Now, usually I would say a funeral should not be televised or made for the public. For anyone else a memorial of this magnitude would be totally uncalled for and unnecessary. But Michael Jackson touched so many people so deeply, and he was an entertainer who genuinely entertained for his fans, not just himself. I'm sure he would have wanted the world to be part and be able to view his final "performance".

I was touched by the eulogies given. Sharpton's ass came up, and spoke kindly of the Jackson family and of Michael's innocence through his many trials. He honored him as an American hero, which he was; paving the way for celebrity influence in world affairs and donating so much of his time and effort to the HIV/AIDS cause and so many other causes.

Among the many people who spoke about Michael; Brooke Shields, Jermaine Jackson, Berry Gordy, Magic Johnson, Queen Latifa...the one person's comments who actually brought a tear to my eye was Paris Michael, his only daughter. She noted him as a good father and said she loves him before breaking down into tears and grabbing Janet. Among all of Michael's achievements, I think his love of children was probably his most controversial and most amazing ability.

Hopefully now the news will give him and his family a rest. Everyone had a chance to say their farewell and send him off to the next world, whatever that may be. I'm not one to get sappy and sad over a celebrity icon, but for Michael Jackson it seems fitting.

Paris Michael's eulogy

Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain...

"The One"....

I always felt that the concept of "the man behind the curtain" resonates through my life with such consistency that it's hard not to feel like Dorothy sometimes. Fabulous shoes?...check. Home left behind?....check. The vision of some "wizard" holding everything I lack in a velvet bag, which is ultimately squashed as I realize I had it all along?...check.

So perhaps all women do this. We imagine this man...somewhere in time, possessing so many wonderful qualities that when we meet him, it will be as if there is a big Vegas-style sign hanging over his head with the words, "This Be Him" all lit up in neon wonderfulness. Our eyes will meet, and suddenly...we'll KNOW. This is the one we imagined inside of every nut job we dated before....the one we'd never leave and who would never leave us. My friends and I referred to this Wonder Man as "The Ultimate". The ultimate friend, the ultimate lover, the ultimate father, the ultimate son. Nothing specifically perfect about him in the general sense...just perfect for me in a round about way. I imagined the two of us having the kind of life most people are too afraid to have. Seeing the world together, making art together, living for the pure rush of learning something new (insert image of Aladdin and Jasmin singing "A Whole New World").

I don't actually look for the Ultimate or anything close to a Wonder Man. I'd be blissfully happy with someone who simply prefers to live for the seconds his life is made up of. Who is perfectly willing to fight sleep to get through a good book or a deep conversation and doesn't find a thing about me weird or uninteresting. And so what if I am weird, because he likes weird...and we'll go hand in hand being weird together sipping coffee and observing life and all the silly people in it. I'd rather know exactly what I need and where I'm going, and for that to just so happen to be the same direction as the person who makes my legs shake and my heart beat faster. Anything short of that is just smoke and mirrors....

Still Amazing; Last Footage of Michael

Overdrawn...

When I first went out on my own, I really had no clue how to take care of my own expenses. I was not yet 18 the first time I got my own apartment with a room mate and then 19 when I got my own apartment by myself. It was overwhelming. I had bills to pay, a full time job and a car to take care of. It felt wonderful to have no one to answer to, but in return I had a ton of stress at a very early age. I remember the first time I went to check my bank account and saw a very mean, red negative number staring at me. I think my heart stopped....

I hadn't been paying attention to what I was taking away from my account versus what I had to spend. I called my Mom...who rescued me, but it's still something that stands out in my mind 6 years later. I got used to using my check register and checking my account balance frequently. I got used to pulling out cash versus using my ATM card constantly. But even though I've rarely overdrawn my account since, I'm still VERY good at giving out what I don't have to give.

Figuratively speaking, of course...

I've done it a few times before...let the rush of something new kind of make me forget where I am. Forget that I'm not as sensible as I'd like to believe and that I have a wonderfully inconvenient habit of completely ignoring signs I don't want to pay attention to. Like the light on my gas tank level gage. The blinking battery on my cell phone. The tight pull of frustration I felt while trying desperately to make my relationship with D work. Then I look up and I realize that I've completely overdrawn myself. Extended my abilities beyond what I should have...

I try to find a balance between being like the jaded, emotionally withdrawn ass holes that I try to avoid in my own life and being that mindless fool that runs out into traffic getting hit and then wondering why. If you invest too much into some idiotic idea, you tend to end up the idiot...and you tend to end up alone. I'm actually considering becoming that closed person who keeps people at bay. Steers clear of any kind of commitment, measures people only by their driest potential...their ability to provide a mutually satisfying outcome...rather than by their ability to make my heart jump for joy.

This barely makes any sense to me, so I'm assuming it won't to anyone else either. Especially since I'm not being specific about what exactly I'm talking about....

Let's just say I've gotten to a point where I can't afford overdraft fees.

Confession of an Urban Nomad....

When I was a kid and there wasn't much to smile about, I tended to find relief in my own imagination. I suppose it's what contributed to me wanting to write. If I had a pen and a paper, then I could create my own reality. I could be anyone, and anywhere and whatever I felt was the ultimate dream could be my truth for that moment.

Now, since then, I've learned to curve my imagination. I learned that living in your own head can really end up hurting the reality you have to actually live in. Like seeing the perfect life with someone and later realizing that you actually over looked a few hundred details because those details weren't pretty enough to fit into your ideal.

Right now, with my imagination slightly stuffed into my pocket, I am wondering where all of this is going. I'm thinking about my future and realizing that I'm actually in a pretty awesome position. I have no ties. To anything, anyone or anywhere. I'm totally perceptive to what might happen and totally willing to follow a new path. I think I used to feel imprisoned by freedom and freedom in prison. I was comforted by limited options, because that meant decisions where made for me. But over the last few years, I've slowly come to the conclusion that I'm just not one of those people. I don't need permanence right now, and I don't even really want it. I want to continue getting my life together; school, money all the things your supposed to get together when your in your twenties. But I also want to see where this whole thing is taking me. I want to see the world, and live there and take it in and absorb whatever strangeness I find. As long as there is a voice in the back of my head saying, "Maybe there is something else..." I'm going to allow myself to follow it. I know that sounds kind of movie-of-the week (cue Greatest American Hero theme song, "Believe it or Not"...), but that is a definite truth.

I will, however, say it's nice to have an equally nomadic friend...

John & Kate Plus 8...PLEASE STOP THE MADNESS

OK, so I'm not a TV person at all, really. I find it pretty silly to sit down and watch the latest TV obsessions which are ONLY designed so that you can sit through 10 to 20 minutes of advertising. If the show is that hot, I'll catch it on DVD...

But for the last few months, the magazines I grab for while waiting in line at the grocery store or waiting for a flight have been focused on John and Kate and their divorce.

Question....who the fuck are these people???

Another question....who does this woman's hair, it looks like she's wearing a blond tarantula..

Third question....WHO THE FUCK ARE THESE PEOPLE???


It's annoying enough when has-been actors and singers get a reality show. Although, at least then you can see how the other half lives. But when some dorky ass interracial couple who over did it on the fertility drugs invades magazine headlines and news because they are (gasp) getting a divorce??!! Now I'm just ashamed to be American.

But today takes the cake. I wanted to check out some of the pictures from the tributes done for Michael Jackson at the BET awards. A show I never tune in for, but don't mind checking out the...uhhh...fashion(?) and today seeing how the black folks honored King MJ over the weekend. However, I couldn't help but notice before I clicked on the hilarious picture of Beyonce dressed as a bride that in the corner underneath the latest Jackson news was this headline "INSIDE STORY: Gosselin Divorce Papers Explained"...

The strangest thing I find about this John & Kate headline (if you can even see it) is the caption underneath it: "WHAT DO YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE COUPLES DIVORCE FILINGS- AND WHAT TO IGNORE".

You can't make this stuff up.

Not that I'm taking the side of anyone who exploits their lives and the lives of their kids for "fame" and fortune, but seriously....WHY do people need to know ANYTHING about someone else divorce? How does this impact the lives of anyone outside of their family? What moron is actually clicking on this link and reading up on the bullet points relating to these two people's personal lives?? If you are in any way invested emotionally in the lives of John & Kate...go get a knife and end it, cause you have nothing else to live for.

Seriously...END IT.

The Ultimate Vegetarian Nachos...

I told Oz today while balancing my cell between my face and shoulder, and grabbing bags of supplies from the front seat of the car, that I had woke up this morning thinking about making some awesome vegetarian nachos.

"You must be an empty-headed person..." he said.

Touche.

The reality of it is I woke up this morning with SO MUCH more than just making nachos on my mind. Between my family, school, work, moving, D, my friends, my money, my writing and the intense pain I've had in my back for weeks now, I was completely drowning in thought. The sun was blazing through my window but the air had been on all night and the temperature was perfect. My bed felt inviting and soft and it tempted me to sleep in even later than I already had (11:30 am). Instead, I decided to push all those nasty "grown up" thoughts out of my head, wake the hell up and just make some awesome nachos.

The problem is whenever you get nachos your left at the mercy of the venue. Limited to their ideals and preference. Some people consider nachos to be some crusty tortilla chips smothered in melted American cheese (you'll find this strain mostly in bowling alleys and ballparks). Some places make awesome nachos....cheese, jalapenos, guacamole...the works. However in my experience, the people who make the best nachos usually top it all of with chicken, pig or cow. Three things I don't consume. So today instead of sitting and write angrily in my journal about the desperation I feel inside or the admission I made last night which I swore I'd never tell anyone or the fact that I have to move (again) although it's dreaded and sometimes feels like a bad decision; I simply made nachos. I made them with a big goofy smile on my face. And I made them with soy beef.

They were so delicious that D, who had already eaten decided to help me finish them off. They were so good, that I forgot to snap a picture of them before they were completely devoured.

Mmmmm....denial tastes like happiness.