Posts

WHAT NOW? Blank Pages and Butterflies

I’ve been carrying a planner around since I was a freshman in high school and I was “required” to have one. I was 14, and telling me I had to do anything made me instantly want to do the opposite. Yet even through the haze of adolescent defiance, slowly but surely, I grew to love the planner. I carried it with me, inputting all of my activities. When I was uninterested in class I would pull out my beloved planner and flip through the pages. I found comfort in knowing that maybe I was bored to tears in biology but… Tomorrow would be a half day, OR In three weeks it would be Christmas break, OR Four months from now was officially prom season, OR This weekend it would be a friend’s birthday No matter how unexciting the class was, I knew I carried with me a happy distraction. My planner was always there as a little reminder that good things were in the future and there was always something to look forward to. Plus, the planner made me efficient and responsible. I could time-manage like a c

Crazy - To Be Or NOT To Be?

“Never, ever talk about religion and politics!” It’s the age-old faux pas. We’re warned of this anytime we go to a social event or outing. When we discuss religion and politics – things tend to get messy. So, don’t worry, I’m not going to blog about either (not yet anyway ). I’m just going to touch on the topic of an angel and a devil. Not in a particularly religious sense though… I’m talking about the fictitious devil and the angel that sits on our shoulders. The imaginary beings that attempt to simultaneously guide us and/or confuse us. The “things” we seem to hold responsible for our mixed thoughts about good and bad or right and wrong. Personally, I’ve never identified with the idea of a subliminal devil and an angel. Maybe it’s because the thought of having little people on my shoulders freaks me out. Or the thought of having more than one voice as my conscience is just weird. Truth is, there was only ONE Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio for a reason! (Don’t ask me why, but Disn

New Years Eve’s Idealism & Realism

I cannot believe that it’s been a week since the whole “New Year’s” Holiday. It goes by in the blink of an eye and if we’re lucky, we managed to snap a few pictures through our drunken haze to document the event. New Years Eve is over…..for most of us, this warrants a sigh of relief. Yes, you read that correctly, I said RELIEF (Let me explain…) After the hustle and bustle of Christmas is over, everyone can relax…everyone except the 20-somethings. For us, New Years Eve is the stress that starts December 26th. I cannot tell you how many times “ So, what are you doing for New Years Eve?” came up in conversation during Christmas time. I ran into some old friends, which I don’t see very often, throughout the Christmas break. I knew I wanted to Blog about New Years Eve and our overrated expectations of the perfect night. So, I asked some friends what they thought about it. The overall consensus: Almost everyone hates New Years Eve! It’s all a huge build up; we willingly drag ourselves th

Christmas Rants w/ Guilt and Cookies

This week has been crazy, I wanted to sit down and BLOG right after Christmas but the hustle and bustle of the season swept me away. As I sit here and write the word “Christmas”... I pause...Is that okay to post? Is it politically correct to say Christmas? I hope I don't offend anyone! Then I stop and think about how absurd it is that I'm actually thinking this! So here goes my Christmas rant...I'm not really sure exactly when it started but we are now being programmed to stop ourselves from saying “Merry Christmas” and now say “Happy Holiday’s.” The change is abrupt and we stop mid-sentence. I find that sometimes I end up in a awkward stutter as I try and redeem my comment. My desperate attempt to be politically correct comes out in a broken mess “Merry Chris…ugh….Holidays” <---its completely embarrassing I am Catholic and I celebrate Christmas. I believe in Santa, candy canes, baby Jesus and Christmas Tree’s (not necessarily in that order). Just because this is wh

Growing Up

Irony is a funny thing– I say this in contemplation of one specific reference: Sometimes it’s the people that we’ve held onto the longest, that, when were ready; are the easiest to let go. Whether its relationships or friendships. Maybe it’s because while we held tight to that person, what we were really holding, was our idea of them. I say “idea” because of the pesky irony… The irony, that even though we may see good and beautiful qualities in another person, they may never see it in themselves. Just because you love someone, doesn’t mean that they love themselves. This problem successfully masks itself while growing up. By the time your 20something, some people are mature, some immature. Some people have grow-up, some are on their way, and some are destined to be life-long Toys R’ Us kids. We are all on our own path, struggling to find our own way. What is difficult to understand, is that just because we start off at the same place, doesn’t mean we end up any where near the same pla

The ONE

I sat on the train today commuting into the city and among all of the people rushing to work I noticed an elderly couple. They boarded the train, couldn’t find seats together and each sat on the end of the row; allowing the aisle to separate them. As the train moved away from the station, the man reached out over the aisle and grabbed the woman’s hand. They only held hands for about a minute, then he smiled at her and let her hand go. It wasn’t anything monumental, just a gesture, and it got me thinking…. If they were young, I would have thought about how naïve they were. Its puppy love… If they were my age, I would have thought about how cheesy they were. Ugh it’s the morning commute for God’s sake... But because they were in their 70’s, I thought about how damn cute they were. It made me think that maybe all the Hallmark bullshit about “Love” may not be a marking ploy just to sell overprices greeting cards after all. I have wanted to blog about Love before but I just couldn’t get mo

You Know What THEY Say…

How to behave and act appropriate is to be, what is known as, “socially acceptable.” The question then is what defines social acceptance? Well that’s easy… because “You Know What THEY Say…” “THEY”, the enigma, the anonymous group that sets the standards of what is socially acceptable in almost every facet of life. How much sleep you should get a night, what SPF to wear on the beach, what to recycle. THEY have governed almost every aspect of our lives. You know what THEY say about… not eating after 7pm or even worse eating before bed. What THEY say about how often to exercise, how much water to drink while working out, what vitamins to take. What THEY say about what to eat before an exam (is brain food really a combination of peanut butter and eggs? Eww together?) And you know what THEY say about… never wearing white to a wedding and only wearing black to a funeral. What THEY say about what gifts to buy for certain events, or that white shoes can only be worn between Memorial Day and L

Follow Your Heart

The fountain of youth may be a myth but the secret to happiness is said to be found when you “follow your heart.” The problem however, is that your heart is an organ in your chest, it beats and pumps blood. This heart cannot be the one they are talking about. The heart we should follow must be the theoretical heart. That’s the one that you draw on notebooks when your in elementary school referencing your first crush; The heart that accompanies your signature on the bottom of greeting cards on birthdays and holidays; The heart that as you get into your teenage years, your wanted NOT to wear on the sleeve! The same heart people are referencing when they advise you to think with your head before your heart. A thinking heart? Now, this is where things get complicated… You see, the older we get the more we’re cautioned to handle our hearts with care. BUT WAIT...How are we supposed to use caution with our heart and simultaneously be thinking with it and following it? There are just too may c