When the Time is Right, I'll Leave this Place Tonight...

You can't always run from the things you don't want to do. In fact, you must often endure the situations you like the least in order to reach the goals you love the most. Goals have to be difficult because if they were easy reaching them would not be a success. Painfully crawling toward a target is what makes it rewarding in the end.


A person who fights to reach a goal can be easily classified as uncharacteristically strong. The world will tell a person that certain goals are out of reach or a waste of time. The key to the achievement of personal goals is to learn to block it out. Block out the negative and only accept the positive. It's impossible to reach a destination without a driving force pushing to get there.


"When the time is right
I'll leave this place tonight
Just leave everything behind
It's time to face my life
We'll trail a path across that gap
Slap back through a crack in time
Is anyone on the other side
Seek and you might find"
-Matisyahu "So Hi So Lo"

Prithee, My Dear, Why Are We Here?

We sat in our tree eating Hostess cupcakes and spying on the boys next door. It was such a big deal if her mom let us venture out of sight around the block. We walked together, content just to talk. We spent so much time together that people thought we were related. They would call us sisters although we looked nothing alike. It might have been the way we read each others minds or how we would throw our heads back and giggle in unison.

We grew up, but I can’t say it was too fast.

In high school, we were so eager to leave—and we did…often. We would sneak out and hop into her clunky old Mazda truck. We would head out of town going as fast as we could on the freeway. (It could barely reach 60mph.) We loved it! We loved how the whole truck shook when it went over 50mph—I guess we didn’t realize we were actually in danger. We would drive through the desert giggling and singing obscure songs no one else knew. We would spend the entire day wandering because our journeys were always much more interesting than our destinations.

Those times are behind us now, but our friendship is not. Although she has gone to follow her dreams, I can still remember her giggling with me up in that tree as we talked about things we knew we could get in trouble for. I still remember putting on those special songs and serenading each other in that shaky truck. We talked about these dreams often, but now for her they are a reality and I could not be more proud of who she has become.

I’m not too far away from reaching my goals either; I look to her for inspiration and support. I know we will both make it where we want to be. No matter how dangerous the road gets, we remember that our journey may well be the most interesting, yet taxing, part.

Washington Heights Apartment

(Picture above is NOT of the outside of the apartment below.)

http://www.citi-habitats.com/viewlisting.php?adID=941159&scroll=1

Love is a very splendid thing.

Love lifts us up where we belong.

All you need is love...

and by that, I mean THIS APARTMENT.

It is BEAUTIFUL!

(Words stolen from one of my favorite movies, Moulin Rouge.)

Check Marks the Spot

My last shred of self-control is barely hanging on for dear life while the rest of me is begging to bust out the scissors. The New Yorker inside of me is telling me it's okay to explode. The smell of coffee wafts through my mind as a reminder of what I want; I won't let up until I get it.


Sometimes it is better to push until things go your way than to sit and wait while you are trampled. I may not be the boss at either of my jobs, but I feel that I deserve respect for the amount of work I contribute to each company. On the weekends, I enjoy working so much that it almost doesn't feel like work at all, but so far at this new job during the week I feel like I am fighting my way through each day. Now, there is nothing wrong with working hard and clawing your way to your goals, but there is no point in putting in that kind of effort when you are not compensated for it in a timely manner.


The first of the month looms near and I am broke. I owe my Dad money for my cell phone and insurance, I owe it to my credit score to pay off that stupid card before it goes into interest, I will most likely owe the mechanic money to fix my car (if they ever figure out what is happening to it), and--most importantly--I owe my savings account a sizable deposit. Not to mention that this month is Christmas and I have not even started my shopping.


At this point, I feel that I have put forth enough effort in rectifying this situation as is reasonable, yet I am not content to sit back as I am screwed at every turn.

Keep My Feet on the Ground and My Head in the Clouds

I'm selfish.


...and I'm okay with that.


Sometimes there is no other choice for me. I am constantly put down for my desires because they are--to my family--a little "out there." They just can't understand why I love my city so much. They won't even give it a chance. It kills me that they actually think all the criticism is helping me--or helping them convince me.


There is no way it ever will.


If anything, they are making me want to push harder and leave sooner. I don't understand the logic that putting me down for going for my dream will accomplish anything but bad feelings. It's like they have no idea who I am anymore... and they don't want to try to find out.


My mom has this fantasy about me that I will marry rich and live in a house with a white picket fence. I will have little girls and drive them around in an SUV. I will constantly wear an apron accompanied by a smile. Except in my version my smile is fake and it's not a fantasy... it's a nightmare.


In my dream, I break that mold-- big-time. In my opinion, some of the most successful people are the ones that break the rules. Sometimes they don't follow the instructions on the package and sometimes their lasagna turns out burnt because of it. Well, I'm willing to eat burnt lasagna every once and a while to make it to my goal.


I know there are still a lot of steps to take and I'm not afraid of the journey. You have to walk before you can run, right?


...well, in my case, you have to crawl before you can walk; you have to walk before you can run...


You have to jump before you learn how to soar...

From Country to City

The bloodhounds creep in from all sides, but the rabbit is not afraid. They slowly and carefully inch in on the rabbit as its head darts back and forth looking for a way out. Once they have overtaken it, they plan to use it for their separate purposes.


One hound will eat the hind legs hoping he too will have the speed and agility that the rabbit once displayed. One hound will eat the rabbit's tall ears hoping to gain the elusive perception that the rabbit once had. Another hound plans to take the rabbit's beautiful fur coat and wear it, hoping to gain the warmth the rabbit once enjoyed. Still another plots to take the rabbit's brain so that he may have as much knowledge as the rabbit did. The last wants to steal the rabbit's soul--perhaps to replace the one that was lost long ago.


All are bearing violent intent just to get what the rabbit has. However, the bloodhounds still lack the speed, perception, warmth, knowledge and spirit that the rabbit will maintain as long as she is still alive.


The rabbit quickly darts between the legs of one of the hounds and escapes the dangerous circle. She spots what appears to be a small hole not far away and jumps inside. Warm inside the hole, she laughs to herself because she knows this is not just a hole--its a tunnel. She burrows through the dirt as the sounds of the howling dogs become more and more distant behind her. As she continues to run--tired and dirty--she begins to question herself just for a moment...


She starts to slow down--only for that moment--until she sees a small beam of light peeking through the other end of her tunnel. She knows in her heart she has almost made it out, so she takes a deep breath and runs as fast as she has ever run. Within moments, she bursts through the dirt and into the light.


She lifts up her sore paws and wipes the remains of the dirt--the reminder of her troubles--out of her eyes. She looks up and smiles realizing the light isn't from one light alone, but from many that burn together.

Vanilla Smoke and Longing

The children had wet, dirty hair. They had been playing in a dirty and particularly unattractive fountain. The fountain has statues of dirty children that are depicted playing in its dirty water. In some respects, I prefer the statues to the human children--they are much less annoying. The children only served to prove once again to me that I am not nearly ready for children. Those children--with their wet, scraggly hair--made me almost loose my appetite.


An old woman sat at the edge of the fountain drinking her smoothie like it was actually a healthy choice. Little did she know, it was full of sugar and sorbet. She watched the children tenderly although they were obviously not her own. Despite her age, she sat swinging her nylon-clothed legs off the edge of that ugly fountain.


There was a middle-aged man further away from the fountain and for some reason he was shading himself under an umbrella while already in the shade. He clearly belonged to a large group of the children; they kept running up to him--wet and loud--and bothering him. If he was left to babysit, he was not doing a very thorough job at it. I watched as the children ran further and further away as he turned his back and entered the chinese restaurant nearby. He was inside as two of the dirty little boys jumped atop a ledge and were running across it in their wet shoes. As the older boy jumped off, the younger one followed. He walked back out and sat down with again with that pointless umbrella.


A couple walked by: a man with tattoos and a woman with piercings in all the wrong places. They both looked foolish in their "rebel-garb."


I was neither interested nor moved by anything I saw. The buildings were contrived--the shopping center common. I did not find the children cute and I did not find the old woman endearing. I definitely formulated that the man was a horrible babysitter and the couple looked ridiculous.


However, nothing moved me. The one thing that moved me this afternoon was the smell of smoke wafting off a woman's cigarette as she walked by--not because I wanted one--but because the smell of a vanilla cigarette made me think of where I wanted to be: New York.