day 8

For the past couple of days, I have been feeling a bit out of sorts. Which may be in part due to the sore throat/congestion/coughing illness that I have been struggling to defeat (and/or the meds). But nonetheless, I have been feeling like:
I am so far away from everything,
I am running from who knows what,
I am searching for something that I can't name.
Although I cannot see the master plan, I am reveling in this crazy existence and allowing it to mold me.

Thank you Ms. Fiona Apple.

I am likely to miss the main event
If I stop to cry or complain again
So I will keep a deliberate pace
Let the damned breeze dry my face

Oh, mister, wait until you see
What I'm gonna be

I've got a plan, a demand and it just began
And if you're right, you'll agree

Here's coming a better version of me
Here it comes a better version of me

Bonne Anniversaire

I guess that since it is my birthday and all, I am expected to post something fabulous about myself or how I have grown over the past year or something else equally insightful.
Hmm…
Will you settle for what I ate for dinner?
Okay. Well, Madame and I ate at le restaurant Georges in the Centre Pompidou, where we had the most dazzling view overlooking Paris at night. The ambiance was very modern and exclusive. Equalling in appeal was the presentation of the food. I had the tomate mozzarella, which consisted of tomatoes with mozzarella cheese, garnished with basil, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. Then for dessert I had the cheese cake with fromage blanc sorbet. You know how I adore desserts and this one was delicious.
So happy birthday to me and to the start of an extraordinary new year!

What's in a name?

So here I am, not even for 24 hours yet and suddenly I am plagued by feelings of loneliness. To be expected? Of course.

But it is not a logical longing, where I am able to articulate what I am missing. (For instance, today I really miss Omar and his singing...) No this is quite different and much deeper. It is an intense feeling of desolation. I have no idea what triggered this emotional upheaval. What I do know is that I need to do something about it. Fast.

Feeling restless and completely alone in the world, I proceed to wander around the city. But being surrounded by all of the movement of Paris does not alleviate my loneliness or my agitated mind.
I pray: please Lord, take this feeling away from me. Help me find comfort and inner strength.
I continue walking, still hoping and praying that the real world will distract me from the commotion in my head. But the more I walk, the more I feel like I don’t belong.
God, I put my faith in you. Do not let me feel so alone.

Shortly thereafter, a boy approaches me and before I know it, he is escorting me around, pointing out landmarks and showing me fancy shops. His behavior is a bit peculiar and then it hits me, he is drunk.
You sent me a lush.
Ah well. At this point, I welcome any kind of outside interaction. Besides, I am starting to get rid of some of the nonsense that has replaced the reason in my thoughts.
Thank you God.
I am feeling better. Up until the point where he starts singing about needing to go to the toilet, which turns into him urinating in the street. I try to walk away inconspicuously in hopes of not being associated with this drunken boy. However, my escape plan is foiled as he catches up with me momentarily and says:
Wait. I forgot to ask you something. What is your name?
Leela.
Oh, I like that name. My name is Philippe.
I chuckle to myself and glance toward the sky with a smile.
You got jokes.

an open letter

Inspired by the numerous open letters of my fellow bloggers, I chose to follow in their spirit of indirect candor.

To the detached-looking outdoor residents of San Francisco:

Excuse me. What are you on? Are you high? Faded? Fucked up? Or whatever the term of actualization may be for your particular substance of choice. Because the way you are walking/talking/behaving is completely unstable and leads me to assume that you did not Just Say No.

And what is that smell? It is like a potpourri of all kinds of body odors, in which the undertones of stale urine and underarm sweatiness are always clearly discernable. *gag* Let's leave that alone.

Despite what it may sound, my intention is not to judge you. I am merely trying to gain a better understanding of your mind set so that when you speak to me I know how to respond appropriately. Since you insist on talking to me. Help me help you.

How should I respond to:
- Ya’ll don’t have to kill me, because I’m going to kill myself.
- Don’t act like you don’t hear it. I know you hear it. You can’t ignore it. (It = the voices in YOUR head? Because, no I don’t hear it.)
- I see your blue underwear. (So what, okay! The waist in my pants is a little big. You don’t have to announce it for the world. *sniff*)
- Do you want a dollar? Just smoke it, man. (Wait, you are offering me money?)
Because my first reaction is going to be to quicken the pace of my walk while reciting a couple Our Fathers and a quick Hail Mary.

I mean, what happened to the normal ramblings of the people on the streets of Chicago and Denver.
- Can you spare some change?
- Hey sexy.
- Do you know that Jesus died for you?
I am accustomed to these remarks. I know how to handle them.

Then I realized that whether I acknowledge you or not, you keep talking. And the more you talk, the less I understand. Wait, why are you following me down the street? Hail Mary, full of grace...

In conclusion, do not mistake my silence for arrogance. Or confuse my unwillingness to look you in the eyes with ego. I ignore you not because I am stuck up or pompous.
Truth is I’m scared.

If you say, "I'm always yours"

Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please
I can act like a star, I can....

Z's & G's

It's a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. The sun is shining in all it glory. You are driving down the highway peacefully singing along with Justin. Dirty babe... Wait, you are distracted by what you see. 1, 2, 3...more than 30 of the mostly the same type of car speed by you on the opposite side of the road.
What the hell is going on?
It's a car run.
A what?
Let me explain. So, there are car clubs for people in the Bay Area who drive Nissan 350Z's or Infiniti G35's. They meet up and drive to different places together to hang out, talk, and admire each others cars. This particular run happens to be to Monterey.
These people have too much time on their hands.
You are probably right.

As I sit in the passenger seat of Jameel's G35 watching the world through my window, I pray for my safety.

By far the best part of the trip was when I got a chance to visit my favorite squirrels in Pebble Beach. They are incredibly friendly and will not hesitate to come right up to you. Because although there is a clearly posted sign instructing visitors not feed the animals, it is quite obvious that it goes mainly ignored.

Her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

In case you were wondering

1. I LOVE peanut butter m&m's. Is that enough to explain why I have single handedly eaten 3 of the Halloween edition bags of these candies since I have returned to the States? It surely does not explain why I have eaten a whole bag today and nothing else. In my defense, that melt in your goodness bekons to me without remorse. Chocolate and peanut butter, each ingredient a stand alone taste delight, are even better when paired together. Yum.

2. She's a big one. A mighty big one. Ahhh! That song has been controlling my thoughts for days now. I know that it is completely inappropriate to sing in pulic, but try as I might I cannot seem to control it. Those lyrics dance around in my head and then flow from my mouth at all the wrong times. Thanks a lot Jade! And let's not forget to thank Flavor Flav for creating this ingenious combination of harmonious words. What can I say about Flavor of Love? I despise the ignorance that show portrays. Yet I am drawn to watch it, like watching a car crash with womens' dignity and worth going down in flames. Ring the alarm. Is this what American culture has come to? Flavor Flav has some serious nerve talking about anyone, specifically Like Dat, like that anyway, because he is no prize (and that is me being nice...oh hell, why start now. He looks like a burnt shriveled up raisin. And he behaves like a dirty old man. Bottom line: he disgusts me.) What is wrong with these people? She's a big one. A mighty big one. Look at how this is junk is influencing me. What is wrong with me!

3. Forever 21 is a great place to shop if you are in the mood to really look through their merchandise. Their stores are always organized so haphazardly. I suppose that they are going for that chaotic feel, because every Forever 21 store I have ever been in has been like that. It can be frustrating if you do not have the patience and/or time to sort through everything. Yesterday I was in the mood and I ended up finding some cute stuff with Jade's help.

4. The exfoliator Modern Friction from Origins is fabulous. It really works well to improve the texture and tone of my skin, preserving my sexy. Definitely worth the money. Note: Avoid the eye area. The sales woman wasn't playing, it really burns!

Happy Birthday!

girls, food, style (?)...what else could one wish for.

(no comment)

Lately I've been feeling like a complete waste of space.
But I guess things could be worse.

A sign that Colorado may want to make their GED requirements a bit more stringent:

{scene: chatting with an old friend on a warm summer evening, mid August, sitting outside my home in Grand Junction}

moi: Well, I will be leaving early next month for Paris.
old friend: Oh, cool. You know, I still haven't been on a plane yet.
moi (with a look of feigned disbelief): Really? Wow.
old friend: Yeah, but maybe I will come over to visit you in Spain.
moi: Ummm...right. (pause) Paris is in France.

I'm moody.

I cried this afternoon.
I laid with my face in a pillow and I cried.

I cried tears of despair.
Desiring to relive mistakes of the past.
Wishing that I was not constantly haunted by the ghosts of lost memories.
I accept what is done and over with. I accept what is out of my control. Let go already.

I cried tears of anxiety.
Afraid of the unknown and the uncontrollable.
Paralyzed by fear of failure.
It is time for me to stop questioning my worth.
I am powerful and capable of accomplishing all that I set out to do.

I cried tears of joy.
I put my faith in God.
No point on dwelling on long gone events of the past.
Or being apprehensive about what has yet to happen.
Because right now, in this moment, everything is perfect.

Head in the Clouds

Am I slow? Or do I prefer to dwell in denial?
Why did it take me so long to realize that I was leaving...

Leaving everything familiar and comfortable to me. Leaving the world I know behind in hopes of creating a better me. Why don't I feel the gravity of this situation? I don't know.

I see what is going on around me, but I feel s e p a r a t e d from it all. Nevertheless I go along with the motions. I fold clothes to pack into my suitcases and organize the books I want to take along. I attempt to gauge exactly what I will need to sustain myself for the following 9 months. I'm leaving. I think it, but I don't exactly feel it the way I would hope.

I have been expecting this move for months, why doesn't it seem real to me anymore? Is it resistance to change? No. I mean, I'm moving to find the new cheese. Waiting for the feeling, I continue going along with the motions. It will come to me in time. I reassure myself. This is normal...right? Upon arriving in Toronto, my dad and I fill out cards making our departure from the US official. No, not yet.

Sleep. Eat. Watch Nacho Libre. Sleep. Sitting on the plane on the final leg of the flight feeling like I'm going on "just another trip", I give up on feeling anything more. Stop over thinking it. Live it. I'm gazing out the window just as the plane touches down on the runway at Charles de Gaulle airport; the French guy seated behind me yells out "Paris!" and it finally hits me.

Contemplation often makes life miserable. We should act more, think less, and stop watching ourselves live.
~ Chamfort

Season of Change

The end of summer vacation consistently brings change.
Back to school. Moving. New clothes.
Old friends. New friends. Exchanging of summer memories.
The carefree ease of long summer days is replaced with structure and schedule.
But never without the promises of renewal and growth.
So as I wave goodbye to summer, I embrace the changes that are coming my way.

Continuity gives us roots; change gives us branches, letting us stretch and grow and reach new heights.
~ Pauline R. Kezer

Wonders of the World Wide Web

Oh, how I love the internet.
'Will you be online later?' Yeah, you bet.

Information and entertainment at my fingertips.
Chatting, blogs, music, funny video clips.

Ebay, Blogger, YouTube, and shopping galore,
So little time, so many sites to explore.

Amazon, iTunes, Craig's List, The Sims 2!
Google Earth. Sit back and enjoy the view.

Airline tickets, song lyrics, the latest fashion trend.
The possibilities of the internet extend without end.

The capital of Maine, how to make a killer omelette,
All things I've learned via the internet.

Celebrity gossip, world news, why cats meow...
Huh? Why? What time is it now?

Day and night. Night and day.
Day and night. I can't walk away.

Oh, how I love the internet.
No, Dad. I'm not hungry just yet.

Okay, okay. I'll be down in a sec.
I'm looking at pics of this crazy car wreck...

I turn off the computer. The images fade away.
Wait a minute. It's already Thursday?

Oh man, I need to download that song and bid on those shoes.
No! It's not a problem. I can stop whenever I choose!

conversations with Omar

Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago - the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider.... It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled.
~Jane Mersky Leder

My brother. Omar. Lil Omeo. My favorite person (although he has ensured me that the feeling is not mutual.)
I love his sense of humor and his dedication to success in every endeavor he pursues.
Although I fail to grasp his obsession with the c-walk, The Nutty Professor, and The Facebook.

*****

{scene: walking through Walmart in the hair product aisle (yes, I detest Walmart and avoid it all costs), shopping for last minute necessities the day before we left for India}

Omar: Hey, let's get some of that scurl.
me (perplexed look on face): Scurl?
Omar (pointing to a product on a nearby shelf): Yeah, scurl.
me: Umm. Yeah. That's "S" Curl.

*****

{Omar relayed this story to me one evening last week after arriving at home.}

Omar: This lady flipped me off today.
me: Why? What happened?
Omar: I was headed to the office to mail out a package. And I was in a hurry because UPS picks up at 5 PM on Friday. So I was switching from the left lane into the right lane. I turned on my blinker, but the lady wasn't letting me in, so I sped up and got in front of her. She laid on the horn and flipped me off.
me: That's rude.
Omar: I got so angry and I was going to follow her.
me: What?!
Omar: Well, I just wanted to follow her and make her think that I was going to kill her. I wanted to scare her. I would've done it if I had the time. But I was in a hurry.
me (shakes head in disgrace): Good to know that you have your priorities in order.




This clip proves what I've been saying all along. Ending an ongoing 7 year battle, from which I emerge victoriously. I told you that song was from the Care Bears! Do you like me? Do you love me? Same difference! You did not make it up. :)

good night grand junction

Aaaarg!!

penny for your thoughts

Whenever I see an erring man, I say to myself I have also erred; when I see a lustful man I say to myself, so was I once; and in this way I feel kinship with everyone in the world and feel that I cannot be happy without the humblest of us being happy.
Mahatma Ghandi

CNN-IBN: Docs Chop of Limbs for Beggars
CNN-IBN: Legal Options to Nail "Butcher" Docs

India
Population > 1.1 billion
> 25% of the population live below the poverty line
In a country with such disparities in income, where opportunity is severely limited by religion and caste, it does not come as a surprise that begging has developed into an extensive sector of moneymaking. As a result, a beggar mafia exists in which people, often children, are forced into begging. Even more disturbing is the fact that some physicians will chop off healthy limbs for a fee (10,000 rupees ~ US $215), in hopes of generating more sympathy and in turn more money.
What does it take for a person to become so despondent that amputating a healthy limb begins to seem like a viable idea? It is hard to fathom the level of indigency one must experience to be willing to sacrifice a limb in order to alleviate the situation. And many others have their limbs amputated without thier consent only to wake up to find these parts missing. They are then forced into begging.
Why does justice not exist for these victims?
What excuse can these "doctors" offer for such behavior?
So should one not give money to beggars? But how can one refuse help to another who is in need? Still even this is only treating the symptoms of poverty and not fixing the underlying causes.

For a situation that seems eminently hopeless, I can offer no solutions to these questions.

Can't sleep. Damn jetlag.

The new airline security rules really suck for long flights. Specifically: the restriction of all liquids and gels from being carried onboard. Admitting that I welcome the new measures in the name of security, I feel that the airlines should compensate for the inadequacies. They distribute toothbrushes and toothpaste. The bathroom is stocked with lotion and shaving utensils. But no lip balm. How am I supposed to survive for over 24 hours without some sort of lip moisurizer? Especially considering how drying airline cabin air can be. (Perhaps I should have bought a stick form of balm, because I think that they would have allowed that, but unfortunately all of the lip balm that I had was of a gel-like consistency.) Needless to say, my lips were extremely chapped and my eyes were so dry that they hurt to open and close. In extreme desperation, I discreetly spread some of the margarine from one of the meals on my lips in hopes of relieving the parched skin...which proved to be somewhat satisfying, although predominately greasy.

Incredible !ndia

I returned home yesterday and I'm so happy to be back in the states. India was fun. For me, India is experienced best in small doses.

Things that I don't understand about India
1. The stench. Men urinate everywhere! It's like they have constant UTIs or something, because whenever that urge comes over them, they simply unzip and go.
2. People throw trash everywhere. I hate that people litter without any concern for the environment. In defense of India: I suppose in a country with a population of over 1 billion people there are more pressing concerns.
3. The damn bugs! Mosquitos, cockroaches (huge fear factor types), ants....
4. It is over 100 degrees outside, I do not want tea.
5. The bathrooms.
6. The extremely high pressure sales people, hustlers, and beggars.

Things that I love about India
1. The food! (Although the manner in which it is prepared in restaurants is better left unresearched in order to preserve one's appetite.)
2. Everything is sooo cheap by American standards.
3. The beauty. The beauty of the people and the landscape (sans the trash).
4. Family :)