On the wheel

So, it's official. I'm back in the States. Just short of 6 months back in the city, in the States, and I joined a gym. Don't get me wrong, I am not scared of getting physical. But the notion of a gym just seems so ridiculous. A mess of people all going nowhere on a variety of machines. I just feel like a hamster. Albeit a slightly more svelt hamster, as of late. Gyms aren't as a big phenomenon in other parts of the world. And memberships to them. Why join a gym when you can hike up a volcano?

Pink to purple

I just found a malaria pill in the tiny little pocket in my jeans that fits nothing more than that. I put it there when my parents were here last. This pill was prescribed by my travel doc last year so I could avoid contracting malaria in the jungle, but is also an antibiotic. I've taken it from time to time over the last year to combat the inevitable clouds of winter sickness. This particular pill's been washed in these jeans probably five times since my folks left but still looks pretty much the same, a touch more purple than pink with the color of the denim. I wonder if it takes that long to break down in the body too. Yikes.

It's funny how something so small can take you back to a particular moment. Maybe I'm sentimental lately, there are just some days that I want to be with family. People who don't care necessarily what craziness comes out of your mouth. They know your madness and how to read it, gauge it, and get you to laugh out of it. I guess I'm just feeling the need to feel a part of something greater than me.

I think I've had it all wrong.

Seems like my latest entries have been negative and boring themselves. I'm the guilty party, none other. Maybe I'm in a rut?

So here's what I want. A job for which I travel and write, can pay my bills, and maybe one day buy a house. Somewhere in the world. Oh, and to be published. Okay, world. It's out there...no more excuses. No more b.s.

There is a mosque in my neighborhood. Tonight someone is crying inside it. The sadness in his voice sweeps out the windows and doors into the street. It sounds like a dirge. Loss. The man's voice alone, no drum, no background music, the cold in the air welcomes his hurt, his grief.

Meant

I don't really like people. Well, maybe that's inaccurate. Your average every daily conversation in the city lately, however, can get pretty boring. But we never realize it when we're in it.

The people next to me are discussing the sexiness of their computers. That's frightening. The color multiplied by the size, plus gigabytes and processors, I am amazed at the information we have catalogued in our brains. This girl's talking about her 2 lb. VaIO being the perfect pocketbook size. I start rocking in my seat. It just makes me nervous. And, don't get me wrong, I have a new computer with my own bells and whistles, well I think there's a bell...not sure about whistles. But wouldn't it be nice to live mostly moments of utter coincidence so that you know exactly in that moment that you should be there...that you were meant to share that moment. Instead of talking about computers, the girl realized that the guy was in her kindergarten or something. And they haven't seen each other since and bump into one another in a Middle Eastern restaurant on St. Marks. Wouldn't that be so much more fun and eerie? Evidence that there's somthing else? I miss those moments and hope to find them again.

Happy birthday, Brendan!

The battle won

I had a battle of rhymes over text message last night. And after extensive judging and by unanimous decision, I won. Yep, that's right. Here's a sample:

a queen with no crown
ain't lettin nobody down
living to live with
nothing but love to give
straight to your hearts and minds
they may say love is blind
but my visions 20 10
i'm beat ya moves before you even begin.

That was just the warm-up. The rest aren't exactly appropriate for publication but were killer. Just trust!

Necessities

A beautiful day in the city today. Sunshine, no clouds. Cold, but who cares? I may have mentioned this before, but this is my third winter within a year's time. One in NYC before I left, one starting South America in May, and another still in NYC. Looking back, for my next adventure, I think I'm going to work it out so I have three summers in a year. First off, winter clothes are so much bulkier. And living in a backpack, or a shoe-box apartment for that matter, is tough with thick sweaters and the like. Second of all, I think I just prefer having a tan. It's not so much that I don't like winter. I think it's the sun factor that I need. And really, all I need in life is a few pairs of pants, a coupla shirts, a bikini or two, shades and flip-flops. So, I'm looking at Asia, Australia & New Zealand. But am hoping to avoid monsoons, tsunamis, sharks and the like...

Forever 31

A little shopping at Forever 21 today. I apparently gave away most of my winter clothes last year before setting off for South America and needed some warm stuff. Woah, that place is crazy! And cheap. As trendy as it gets in New York, it's full of clothes for the moment. I'll probably have to go back next week for a whole new crop. But I haven't see anyone wearing anything I bought yet today. Of course, it's winter. And everyone on the street is covered head-to-toe, the city awash in bank robbers. Yo, stick 'em up!

In this kind of shop, I can tell my age. And, you know, I'm thankful to be where I am in this life. When I think of 31, I think of Baskin Robbins. Back in the day when it was more than just a shoot off of CinnaBun or Taco Bell...and back in the day when that was all there was. Pre-frozen yogurt, pre-Ben & Jerry's, I'm talking pure, classic ice cream. That was the jam!

The spirit

So I'm not worried so much about being published. Hey, a blog is self-publication, right? I guess I should worry about it, but it's more that I want to write. The more I write, no matter the subject, the better I feel. It may be that writing is a form of prayer for me, art (or my version of it) as a form of spiritual soothing, the release of trouble, struggle, one step close to enlightenment. The experiences of discovering things new and foreign being the closest to God I have gotten thus far.

To get it down on the page and out of your head, not because it torments you (although sometimes it does), but because you have to let it out. You become stagnant in your own silly routines and have to break from the monotony, writing the conscious break. It's almost a window into another place, or maybe a view into yourself. Maybe writing is my holy spirit...

Bueller...Bueller...Bueller...anyone...?

Coach Pollock, my AP Government teacher in the 11th grade, held me after class one day to ask questions about points I'd raised in one of my essays. I got nervous, and may have even cried from embarrassment, showing nothing more than an utter lack of confidence in my writing. We got into a political debate about something and afterward he told me I shouldn't worry. That I was a talented writer.

Isn't it funny when you realize that you've been telling yourself exactly what you should be doing in life? Only, for whatever reason, fear, denial, you just haven't been able to listen to yourself? Why it's 14 years later that I realize I want to explore that talent, I'll never know. I'm just happy to have some clarity of dreams!

In flight

So my parents showed up to the city tonight. Their whirlwind month States tour coming to a close, they fly back to Singapore Sunday night. Eighteen hours and 45 minutes on a plane. Can you imagine? And how do meals work? You board at 11 pm, say, but are moving forward in time while flying. So, while you may think it's 5 am and are ready for a cup of coffee, it's actually 3:30 pm in the time zone you've just entered. So the flight attendant comes around with tea and crumpets? And 3 hours later you have dinner? Then breakfast 3 hours after that? There ain't enough movies in the world to keep me interested for 18 hours. Well, maybe a Law & Order marathon...

Happy Birthday to J'Nel! My girlfriend Roxie had her first baby today! Let's all send her a happy welcome to the world!

Revival

Hey, hey, hey! It's Miss Anne back to Miss Anne's World. I needed a break, people. Well, really, I was just working too much and not writing enough. No good. No good.

So here's to new years and old habits!