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When there's nothing left to lose...
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| Beijing! 北京 :) |
[May 29th, 2009 @ 9:23am] |
This is a long shot, but let's see...
Is anyone on my flist in Beijing, by any chance? I've had the GREAT LUCK to be in China with a group of 20 American students who think the best thing they can do with their time here is nap... all the time.
Anyhow, I'm itching to get out of my hotel room. If you're in Beijing and want to meet up, let me know!
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| Oh, Sunday. |
[Apr 26th, 2009 @ 11:05pm] |
Oh, PostSecret...
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| This is unacceptable. |
[Apr 23rd, 2009 @ 12:07pm] |
This repetition of weeks that include multiple shifts of 18+ consecutive hours...
Can suck it.
I miss having time to blog. I'm currently losing all zeal about being a grad student.
I'd be perfectly happy to focus on the fast-approaching day when I'll be on my way to China, but I'm somewhat concerned about whether I'll make it to Saturday, when I'll finally be able to sleep soundly again (for a day).
Actually, my primary concern right now is whether I'll be able to make it to 4pm today.
Non so se posso continuare a vivire questo tipo di vita. Devo cambiare qualcosa... presto.
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| There's always a new limit to be tested. |
[Mar 25th, 2009 @ 2:49am] |
Here we go.
It's not anything new, but it feels so foreign every time it happens. Yeah, I've gone through these motions a thousand times before. I call them foreign... in the sense that there are certain moments when I think about what I've put on my plate, and my muscles tense up in intimidation. Can anything familiar really make one feel that?
5 weeks ago, today was 5 weeks away. Significant, eh?
5 weeks. 35 days. 35 (wasted) days?
When am I going to fix this?
Will I approach the situation better next time? (Is it even worse that at times I find myself entertaining thoughts of just up and... walking away?)
Will someone.
Someone.
PLEASE.
Prove my Superman complex wrong?
Anyone who talks to me this weekend... Please remind me why this is not healthy, nor beneficial, nor... NORMAL. And just to stop being ridiculous like this.
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| Hm. |
[Feb 7th, 2009 @ 9:13pm] |
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"No puedo ni explicártelo, los idiotas que me han seguido."
"Los culpo por ser idiotas, pero no por seguirte."
.
Le retórica es tu arma más letal.
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| I've got my heart set, on anywhere... but here. |
[Feb 5th, 2009 @ 10:38pm] |
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Stop and Stare ~~ OneRepublic |
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Tiempo de despedirme de otro más...
Dear 210 N 5th St,
My last night here really snuck up on me, and it probably won't be the last night I sleep here... Because of all the packing I've left to do, I likely won't sleep much tonight.
So let's talk about you and me...
I remember thinking about you to the tune of "White Houses" by Vanessa Carlton. I slept on the floor for the first few months here, being too poor to afford a new bed and too scared to tell my mom I was moving out and take my bed from her apartment.
I was a 7th-grade teacher when I moved in... Monday through Friday, 8-3. There were days when I'd nap from 4-7, actually go to bed at 8, and still almost sleep through homeroom the next day. I swore that the day that job ended, I would drive by, wave my fist at the building, and officially name it "The Bane of my Existence".
As a house, your success has been mediocre at best. As a home, you've made a great first impression... The first place I've ever lived (aside from school), having fully moved out of my mom's.
Anyhow, being known for writing exhaustive thank you notes, I have one for you:
Thank you for those nights with no bed... Looking around my empty room, decorated for a 5-year-old with planets and stars, and a rainbow ceiling fan. Curled up in the corner on a pile of blankets, I started to wonder if I would ever grow up. I started to wonder when the games would end, and when real life would begin.
Thank you for that room, as I filled it with my things and Alicia walked in the door (You know, the one with the gaping hole Zak chewed in it), and told me "It really looks like you're starting to feel like you live here." My door out onto the roof, and the games we'd play there, worrying only about who could land the most pebbles in the pool from one throw.
Thank you for the second-hand furniture from street corners and the Mayor of 5th St., who always promised a dinner of "Spanish speakers and wannabes", but never invited anyone over. The hand-me-downs... Grandma's folding table and the beating stool, where games of asshole and canasta, 30-racks of Keystone and cartons of Herons made us forget the next day what was really so funny the night before.
Thank you for the broken promises of a working pool, Summer parties around the fire pit, and roadtrips.
Thank you for the bouts of unemployment, and the way we've had to take care of each other when things got rough.
Thank you for the times that things got rough, and we were certain this thing we called friendship was on its way out the door.
Thank you for the 4:35 breakfast club, and those mornings when it was still exciting to be a college professor... The mornings when a shower with Camila calling me his Coleccionista de Canciones and a jolt of caffeine in my blood got me to my classroom before 7am to get pumped about what I was teaching that day.
Thank you for margaritas and tequila shots, on the front porch or at the Elk's club, promising each other that we needed to do stuff like this more often.
Thank you for Robert, his lack of a toothbrush and his herd of dead pets. We weren't easy on him, and it made me realize how much worse things could have turned out for me.
Thank you for the nights I spent alone in my bed, wishing I were with someone else.
Thank you for the nights I spent with someone else, wishing I were alone.
Thank you for the nights I wish I remembered more of, and for the nights I wish I could forget.
Thank you for reminding me that heartbreak isn't the end of everything.
Thank you for making me struggle, and most of all... For making me think.
I can't say that I'm leaving you a more mature person. More experienced, certainly... But I still look in the mirror and see a child, and my fears in this life have come in stronger over the passed months than ever before. I want to believe that you've seen the worst it can get, and I leave you with nothing but strongest wishes for the best.
Every time I hear "Amigo en el Baño", I'll be back to Summertime, Destiny swearing that they played that song at her church, and Víctor trying frantically to explain to us that not all Spanish music is like that.
You've been good to me, and I hope I walk out the door tomorrow ready to become better because of it.
Ciao bella,
Ron
( Time to make one last appeal for the life I lead )
Peace out.
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| Who wants a limo ride and some free drinks? |
[Feb 2nd, 2009 @ 11:56pm] |
I won a thing from Buffalo Barfly, and have to get about 10 people together who could meet at my friend's house in Buffalo's Elmwood Village at 7:30pm Tuesday (Yup, that's tonight! I'll give you the address if you tell me you're game.) A limo will come around 7:45 to pick us up and take us to Recckio's Sports Bar. 2 free drinks for all who come along plus a load of other prizes and contests and shit.
Here's the facebook event page:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=59509612497&ref=mf
Fringe benefits for anyone who'd pick me up from Olean ;)
Ready, set, GO!
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| A trip across the country, three new words, and a cozy t-shirt |
[Jan 28th, 2009 @ 5:03pm] |
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Un Passo Indietro ~~ Negramaro |
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This postcard popped up on PostSecret a few weeks ago, followed by an email from Melissa Monroe of Rochester, NY, to Frank. She explained to him that in a matter of a few months, she was going to pack up her car with clothing, and leave everything behind to move to Portland. She allowed Frank to post her email address on the site, on account of which she received over 4,000 emails in the days that followed... Prompting her to kindly, but regretfully, ask Frank to remove her contact information.
This is her blog... The development of her story is something I've certainly enjoyed thus far. It's rather serendipitous, what with me wanting to leave most everything behind as I head up to Buffalo. It's made me think a lot about how a change of location can be used as a conduit for change in general... towards personal goals and (as cliché as this term is) self-discovery.
In other news, I've another Italian song to share with everyone... One I find quite beautiful:
( E Tra Le Mani Aria Stringi, E Non Trovi Le Parole )
New words!
Indietro = Atrás -- En arrière -- Rückwärts -- Backwards
Stringere = Apretar -- Serrer -- Festspannen / Klemmen -- To squeeze
Tra = Entre -- Entre -- Zwischen -- In between
Only three this time! My Italian must be getting better... Presto comenzarò a provare a scrivere qui più in Italiano...
And I liked the song before I looked up the lyrics. Now I love it. In a "it gave me chills" type of way. It's hard for me to express why this is one of my favourite things about learning foreign languages, but each time a song, or poem, or conversation in a foreign language strikes an emotional chord with me, I can't help but realise that I wouldn't have had that experience if my life happened 100% in English.
And then there's the video for the song. The scene where the guy is putting on a t-shirt. I realised that I love the feeling of putting on a well-fitting shirt. What about you? What little, repetitious pieces of everyday life are able to make you feel good every time you do them?
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| Chinese New Year, and You Vote! |
[Jan 27th, 2009 @ 3:56pm] |
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Duelling Italiani |
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I had a discussion with the artist formerly known as ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) bluepose about whether this Chinese New Year is that of the bull, or the ox.
Turns out, it's both. And Google confirms ambiguity practically across the language board. SO! Word of the day!
牛 - [niú] - bull / ox (牛年 - [niúnián] - means "year of the bull / ox")
Toro - is what Spanish gives us for "bull"
Buey - Spanish for "ox"
Taureau - in French can refer to "bull" or "ox"... but for "ox", you can also say:
Bœuf - Yep. Beef. Just call it what it will be when it's on your plate.
Toro - because Italian and Spanish are SO DIFFERENT.
Bue (pl. Buoi) - again, because Italian and Spanish are SO DIFFERENT.
der Bulle (pl. Bullen) - when all else fails, spell something incorrectly in English. It usually ends up German.
der Stier (pl. Stiere) - it looks like this is also the astrological Taurus.
der Ochse (pl. Ochsen) - not a far stretch from "ox", "oxen".
Okay, now that THAT'S over, I want to know what YOU think. Do you remember Raffaella? Her hot dance moves? Her lightning-sharp lip-syncing?
( In case you don't, here's a refresher )
nihilant1012 brought a competitor to the table, Renato Zero...
( So take a look at this one, and then tell me... )
If you had to pick one of these two stunning artists (at their prime in these videos... not at their current ages) to give you a one-night private show... Whom would you choose?! To the comments!
PS - The Vietnamese Special Male Diva is NOT an option ;)
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