Grasses

Two pieces of news:

1) I got grasses! They're Prada. I'm fancy.

2) I'm no longer unemployed! Again, fancy. And probably the reason why I can afford Prada grasses.

That's all, folks.

Mellifluous

I'm actually one of the few people out there that enjoys rainy days. I like how my apartment, already darkened by our chocolate hardwood floors and brown furniture, descends even further into this cozy darkness. It's an excuse to light vanilla candles all over (Phantom of the Opera-style), make a steaming pot of coffee, and catch up on magazine reading and bills from last week. The candlelight makes it feel very Old World, which I secretly like. But OK! Magazine totally brings it back to the present, of course.

The other day I reached the very last page of the Moleskine notebook I've been keeping since December 2009. The end of an era. Since I started it, I've been keeping a running list of vocabulary words that I come across and like. Not necessarily difficult SAT-esque words, but words that strike me as interesting in some way or another. It's not like I try to use them on a day-to-day basis (bifurcate? dirigible?), but the simple act of writing 'em down helps me to remember them. And that's all I want to do. Remember. 

Sometimes I can even remember where I was when I wrote down a certain word. I know I jotted down "octogenarian" -- a person in their eighties -- after reading an article on the awesomeness that is Betty White (and she really is awesome). And "mellifluous" -- having a smooth, rich, musical flow -- came during a concert at a wine bar when the singer announced we were in for a "mellifluous hour and a half" (and he ended up being true to his word). Maybe that's why I write certain words down. Like little thumbtacks saluting me from the road map of 2010, they remind me of where I've been and what I've learned.

P.S. Fun fact: I don't dot my "I's." Not even in my own name!

Two Mirrors

The Photodiarist

"But you've never wanted that. You wanted a mirror. People want nothing but mirrors around them. To reflect them while they're reflecting too. You know, like the senseless infinity you get from two mirrors facing each other across a narrow passage. Usually in the more vulgar kind of hotels. Reflections of reflections and echoes of echoes." - The Fountainhead

This is usually how I feel when I meet someone new for the first time. As a default, I expect them to be the kind of person that's only talking to me because they want to hear themselves talk. They want an audience. They want a mirror reflecting their own mirror reflecting mine reflecting theirs, and so on and so forth. I know it's completely unfair, but lately I just can't help it. Sometimes I feel like I'm meeting the same person over and over again. And it's really getting to me. I used to be doe-eyed and overeager, almost throwing my whole being into a conversation with a new person. Now I just don't give a shit. Well, that's putting it a little harshly. I care. I still want to get to know you better. I just no longer expect to be surprised, is all. It's a snobbish arrogance on my part, as if I'm the keeper of all the wisdom in the world. But I'm too keenly aware of who I am as an individual, and I guess a lot of people still aren't. And may never want to find out. I don't fault them. I just don't have the patience for it any longer.

And We're Back!

Back in the interview game ;)

What You Know

I can't embed the actual music video, but here's the live version. Such a great song. I can tell just what you want...
It's not that I'm forgetting to blog, but right now, I'm actively choosing not to. The opportunity for a month of self-reflection, a month to tune out the noise and listen to my doubtful heart, has given me more clarity than I could have ever imagined. And I'd be greatly diminishing the value of this newfound clearheadedness if I tried to spell it out in writing. It's not something to be shared, but to be held tightly, like a hand of cards. All I can say is that I'm grateful for everything that's happened, including the events that led up to this month of "me." Just me. Me and my stubborn, arrogant, childish heart. This month was exactly what I needed, and, before things could have spiraled downwards even further, could not have come at a better time. If there are a few pearls of wisdom that I can humbly share, it's these: 1) Don't be afraid of being alone, 2) Read The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, and 3) Be honest with yourself. It's the hardest yet most rewarding thing you can possibly do.

I spent the last few days trying to find something insightful to say about this moment and frankly, I got nothin'. All I know is that lying on a smooth rock, watching ducks swim in lazy circles, sunlight warming cheeks and hands and lips and bones, I was entirely convinced I was the happiest girl in all of Central Park. But then again, it doesn't take much to make me happy these days. Ice cream makes me happy. The color green makes me happy. Peeling off the covers and falling into the untouched, soft coolness that is your bed when you go to sleep at night makes me supremely happy. But yep, I was sure that I was happier than any other being in the whole wide park.

That's all I have to say for now!

FF Segment #8: Favorite Things

Sigg Bottle and Elephant Ears

I went to a bakery in Chinatown recently and had myself a giant elephant ear, Chinatown-style. Ever since, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, so I made myself a quick batch using Pepperidge Farm puff pastry. Et voila! Cinnamon Elephant Ears. These and my fancy Sigg bottle from Gilt Groupe are a real personal treat.