"If you do follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while waiting for you, and the life you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in the field of your bliss, and they open the doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be. If you follow your bliss, doors will open for you that wouldn't have opened for anyone else."

"Remember, there are no mistakes, only lessons. Love yourself, trust your choices, and everything is possible."

Every day of your life is a gift from God. 
Don't squander it.
Don't waste it by being angry with anyone.
Don't let it slip away by feeling sorry for yourself.
Be grateful for this precious gift of life and spend it by being as happy and as thankful as you possibly can.
Let your mind dwell on the good things which have happened to you.
Let gratitude be your attitude.
Think of your assets, and don't let anyone else spoil your day for you.
Enjoy every day of your life to the fullest.
Realize that you can add to the joy of each day by making someone else happy.

-Richard A. Carloy

"How could I question my life's greatest lesson, sure left an impression right from the start. The moment I lose you I'll find out what love is worth."

"Give your best to those who love you the most."

What a simple concept. Give your best to those who love you the most. 

Yet sometimes we take for granted those who love us. Their presence is so strong and constant that it almost becomes unnoticeable. And perhaps 'take for granted' is the wrong phrase. What I mean to say is, sometimes we forget just how loved we are, because we are looking in all the wrong places. 

This goes along with another blog post I read this week that really made an impact on me. We spend so much of our time looking at the negatives and focusing on the voids in our lives that we rarely take time to step back and be thankful for all that we do have. 

I think every human being has been guilty of this. And lately, I know I have been.

It isn't so much that I haven't been thankful or aware of the beautiful people in my life, I know I am blessed everyday, but I think I underestimate how much value they have in my life sometimes. 

I have been so focused on a lack of love from one source that I've let that outshine the abundance of love I actually do have in my life.

I always want things to be as perfect as they can be. I want every problem fixed and every loose end tied up in a cute bow. But life is screwy, and often messy, and things can often be left open ended. And this pisses me off. 

Especially when it comes to love.  I look at the one place or person who is denying me it and obsess over what I'm doing wrong, or how I can come to fix it. Because I'm convinced that until every little thing is my life is smoothed out, I couldn't possibly be happy.

Of course, this absolute shit and I'm ridiculous.

Life doesn't have to be perfect to be perfectly wonderful. And love is not about taking, but about giving.

I have so much love in my life its almost disgusting. But really, I do. I've been so busy looking at the one place where I don't have it, and I've lost sight of the fact I don't need to to be taking love from someone else when I have tons of beautiful people giving it to me. 

Go figure.

I've been racking my brain for the perfect analogy and unfortunately the only one I can come up with is this corny, awful one about a garden. But it works. And I feel like it sounds sexual, even though I don't intend it to be at all, but I feel like you might read it that way anyways... And if you weren't going to read it that way, I'm sure you will now that I've planted the idea in your mind. But honestly, this isn't sexual, just a horrific analogy. 

You spend all this time and energy planting seeds and tending a garden. And you pour your love and hard work into it. And then one day everything blooms and it feeds you for life. (The garden is magical. Naturally). And you know, it's freaking awesome. Because you have strawberries and eggplants and carrots and lettuce and tomatoes and life is just peachy (You have a plentiful peach tree too). But hold up (as Sandy Davidson would say). 

The damn squash didn't grow.

It just didn't. Without explanation. You didn't neglect it either, in fact, you gave more care and attention to it than anything else in the damn garden. And yet it still didn't grow. Despite your beautiful, magical garden, the lack of the squash is eating away at you. It isn't even that you like the squash that much, you're just so focused on why it wouldn't grow that you make it a bigger deal than it was ever worth in the first place.

And you spend all this time wondering what you did wrong, or what you could have done better, or how you can somehow fix it now. Why didn't it want to grow for you? Why weren't you good enough. And you're all depressed and pissed about the squash that you forget about the rest of your garden. Which is begging for you to eat it already. 

And you know, despite this GOD AWFUL analogy, I think we can all agree that it is understandable to be upset about the squash. 

Until you sit back and realize, well fuck the squash, because I have a whole garden. So, who cares?!

I have some of the most amazing people in my life. They understand that love is about giving and not taking. And they value me, because I value them. And some of them even love me at my absolute worst. 

It isn't a surprise to me that I love the friends and family in my life, at all. But it did hit me just how loved I am the other day. Which sounds really obnoxious and petty, I know, but it seemed to have gotten lost this semester. Because I was so busy staring at the empty, lifeless dirt where my squash was supposed to be that I forgot to look around at what my love HAD cultivated. 

My efforts and my love and myself are enough. More than enough. It was the squash that couldn't get it together. 

I cannot even begin to start talking about all of the amazing, fabulous people in my life. I just can't. Well I mean, I guess I could, but I'd rather just tell them personally, rather than refer to them as a turnip. 

In the blog I was reading the author references a quote. "The only people to get even with are those who have helped you."

Genius. 

So my resolution for my favorite month is to spend it getting even with those who have been (and have always been) there for me. Because they deserve my time and energy. They never let me down. They value the hard work I put into our friendships and they return the favor. They matter to me and I've done an awful job of appreciating them lately. 

And squash tastes like shit. 

So, who cares if it didn't want to show up to the party? It clearly didn't value me, but that doesn't mean I wasn't worth it. Love is about giving. And I gave it all I had. That still wasn't enough. But love isn't about taking. And if it wasn't going to show up, its because IT wasn't worth my love. That it no way means my life is any less beautiful, in fact, its been pretty damn lovely squash, let me tell you.

I don't even LIKE squash. I was caring too much about the wrong thing. And I was only caring because it was the only thing missing. But love is about giving. And the people who really matter to me are always giving, and always loving me, and never making me question why. So really, there is nothing missing at all, except squash's attempt at love which was only one of taking and not giving. And that's its problem. 

What I'm trying to say is this: I'm spoiled. Because Love, Actually, is all around. And my God, I have a lot of it. 

I have beautiful sorority sisters who not only love me, but inspire me. I have the most 5c best friend in existence. I have a sorority daughter who is wise enough to be my mother. And a sorority mother who is just fabulous. And a real mother who, you know, birthed me, so there's that. Oh, and who reminds me of what is actually important in life. And a dad who does the same. And two unexpected friends who look up to me. And someone who has loved me most when I deserved it least-you know who you are.

And so, so, so many more. 

I'm going to give my best to those who love me the most, because it's about damn time. 

* Also, if you are a beloved person in my life, PLEASE promise to still love me after this ridiculous, cringeworthy, and utterly embarrassing post that refers to you as produce. I apologize, and promise to refrain from EVER using such a horrendous analogy again. 

"Never say anything about yourself you do not want to come true."

Absent

Oh, hello.




It's been awhile, hasn't it?
So, what have I been up to?

Well, currently I'm growing through my junior year crisis.
It has not been a particularly enjoyable experience, in case you were wondering.

Technically, everything is fine. More than fine, peachy, really. Everyday life is still fun and bright, for the most part. It's like a great manicure. My nails are freshly painted and polished. I appear to have my shit together. Yet, there is all of this crap underlying my seemingly perfect appearance. Tons of dirt stuck under the nails. This may not be visible to anyone but myself, but knowing that its there is a constant reminder of all that I still have left to figure out.

I'm facing something I've never faced before: Not knowing what I want.

I've always known what I've wanted. I've always had a gut reaction, relied on my intuition and acted on impulse on far too many occasions.

This year, that gut reaction, that burst of passion, that internal compass decided to just up and leave me.

Jerk.

 I guess it got tired of working so hard the past twenty years, and decided to take a vacation. I wouldn't know though, it's not as though we're on speaking terms with each other. Maybe its still there, and it just hasn't found something worth reacting to. Or maybe it is just confused and overwhelmed.  Maybe it finds humor in me flailing around in my life like a confused bird. I, for one, am not amused.

If you're wondering what this crazy girl is babbling about, bear with me.

In my mere twenty years of existence, I have made choices and decisions based on my intuition. ALWAYS. I'll pretend to be a really rational human being, though. I'll weigh all my options, I'll make pro/con lists, I'll discuss with people older than me, you know, the supposed "wise" ones. And then I'll throw all my rationale out the window. I'll go with a feeling. When it came to making a decision on where to attend college, I had a dream school. I got in. Early. It had 27052849 pros, and maybe 2 cons.

I still have the napkin from an orientation I went to there.

Yeah.

On paper, it looked freaking fantastic. But something felt off. I LOVED the WAY that school looked on paper, but I'm not sure I ever really loved IT. It felt safe and predictable; exactly where I should end up.  You know what school didn't? The one in the middle of MISSOURI. I don't even think I bothered making a pro/con list for it. The cons outweighed the pros before I even wrote one out, or you know, visited.

I visited. I didn't need a damn list. I just KNEW. All of those months of deliberating, and I just knew. And as crazy as the decision was, it just felt right. It felt like the right choice. Because suddenly, I knew what I wanted.

When I know what I want, I can make a plan and execute it. I can direct my passion and set my sights on what I really want. And, usually, I get it. Sometimes I didn't. That's life. And that can be chalked up to a myriad of things, but for the most part I think that always boiled down to the fact that I didn't think I was good enough. I was lacking some sort of qualification or confidence, and I let that eat away at me. I got in the way of my own path.

I've learned that mentality is utter bullshit.

Flash forward two years. I no longer doubt my abilities. I gained more confidence. I feel qualified for anything I am going after. And if I don't feel completely qualified, I fake it, because chances are I am qualified, I just don't realize it quite yet. I guess this came from not thinking I was good enough. So I would watch someone else that I deemed "better' than myself take on a position. Only to realize that I very easily could have done a better job.

ANYWAYS. In a nutshell: I used to not think I could have/get anything I wanted, but I was always able to identify what it was that I wanted. And that was comforting. I always had a plan, a direction, a passion. Then, I gained confidence and recognized I'm capable and qualified for just about anything I really want. The issue? Well now that I have EVERY door open, now that I'm a 20 year-old in college with her entire life in front of her, now that I could literally pursue ANYTHING, I no longer have ANY IDEA WHAT I WANT.

So, that's just fabulous.

I have all of these choices in front of me. And they are all wonderful opportunities. But choosing just one requires me to give up the rest of them. Which is understandable. Picking one means passing on the rest. It sucks to think about what you have to to give up to go after what you really want, but that's life. OH WAIT. I don't know what I want. Thus my crisis and rambling, obnoxious blog post.

For example. Let's say I have all of these great choices, but I want to study abroad. Yet, studying abroad requires me to give up three other things. Well, bummer. BUT if studying abroad is what I REALLY want, then I'll do it without hesitation. That intuition will kick in and I'll KNOW I'm making the right choice.

Problem is, I don't know what I want anymore (have I mentioned this yet?).

So I'm faced with making decisions without my gut reaction. Nothing is tugging at my heart strings. Every option is on the same level. Nothing really excites me.

Am I qualified for it all? Absolutely? Would I like any of my options? Of course. Do I know which one I WANT? Nope.


So boo-hoo for me, right?

I understand that I am putting a lot of pressure on myself. I understand that most people do not know what they want to do with the rest of their lives. And I am learning that the best choice I can make is going to be whichever one I end up choosing.

Do I want to be studying journalism? Yes. But do I want to be a journalist. Mm, debatable.

I do not mind being pulled off of my path, but I need to be following something. And without a burning passion or gut feeling, how am I supposed to know what the right choice is?

I understand this probably sounds very trite and full of complaints for those reading this, but I'm not going to hide that I'm scared of opportunity. I'm frightened by the immense amount of options. I don't know how to navigate so many potential futures without my internal compass.

But my compass took a hiatus. And I don't know how to make it come back.


I'm starting to wonder if it disappeared because my not knowing what I want is stemming from the fact that I might not really know who I am anymore. Which is normal, and  change is good.

And absolutely frightening.

I just have to make a choice. I just have to choose one door above the rest and see what it brings me. Maybe my intuition is behind a door, waiting for me to come and find it.

Or maybe I'm just a stressed out, sleep-deprived, journalism student.

Be invulnerable.

"Just because you're on the Seekers path doesn't mean you should take life so seriously. In fact, the more rooted in Spirit you are, the more fun life becomes! Don't get caught in dogma or beliefs that say one way is the only way. The only way is your happiness. The whole point of being on your path is to enjoy your life. Enlighten up and take a chance, let go, say what's on your mind and shake things up. It's okay to ruffle some feathers, and if you get a negative reaction out of someone it's only exposing their own opportunities to grow. Get messy for a change."
      

"Indeed our hearts are golden treasures, but a true tragedy would be to conceal your inner gold because you are afraid of someone stealing it or it falling and breaking. There is no love in fear. The great wisdom of the ages always tells us the more you are Love the more of it you receive. Love is not a giving or a taking, it is a state of being - a one way street of allowing, accepting and holding a space for all things to be exactly as they are.

 

Fear not that your heart will be broken or stolen. Love becomes loves. Give it away with no expectation of return and soon you will be having a love affair with the whole world!"

“Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: “I’m with you kid. Let’s go.”

“Life they say can turn on a dime. In a world that constantly shifts beneath our feet, the only thing we know for certain is how we feel. The love we have, the fear we hide from, the pain we push away…give them a voice and the rewards are peace of mind and a peaceful heart.”

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind is part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter into another.”

"IT WASN’T ONLY WICKEDNESS AND SCHEMING THAT MADE PEOPLE UNHAPPY, IT WAS CONFUSION AND MISUNDERSTANDING; ABOVE ALL, IT WAS THE FAILURE TO GRASP THE SIMPLE TRUTH THAT OTHER PEOPLE ARE AS REAL AS YOU."

     -IAN MCEWAN

"Don't take anything personally. Nothing other people do is because of you. It is because of themselves."

Back to the Basics

It has been a summer of simplicity as I’m drawn to the effortless, chic ease of doing things.  I’m plain sick and tired of clutter. I want to just chuck out the remnants of randomness that don’t belong, but I hold on to anyways, just in case. For instance the shopping bags of notes and tests from high school on the top closet of my shelf--its time to go. Old books I’ll never read again need to be donated, and I’ve purged my closet to make room for the new.

Therefore it is time to de-clutter this blog. Time to revamp it, update it, and give it a much-wanted makeover. It certainly does not NEED it, but I think change is good.

It’s kind of like that awkward leftover that does not fit on the dish. You know what I’m talking about. You’re having company over and you’re arranging the home-baked cookies on a platter, yet no matter how you arrange ‘em, there is always an extra one. And you’re left with this groundbreaking decision of what to do with the “extra.” Majority of the time we just throw it on top of the display we worked so tirelessly on, shrugging our shoulders. Well guess what. I’m sick of that one “extra” throwing off my display. I’m sick of the clutter. So I’m just going to get rid of it.  Eat it, perhaps.

I have tried to depict said act with this update. I got rid of all the extra, awkward cookies. They sure look and taste good, but they don’t really belong.

I needed something bold, simple and fresh. I hope you like it too.

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.


-Mark Twain

"It's 72 degrees, zero chance of rain, its been the perfect day. We're all spinning on our heels, so far away from real."

Hello. Just thought I'd share some things. The bad first.

CONS

While at the mall today I saw knock off TOMS. The shoes that, with your purchase, also donate a pair to children in need. Not only do I despise knock-offs, but I hate that these are robbing a fabulous cause. So, if you want to save 30 bucks, have a disdain for authenticity and lack a heart then it looks like you found your glass slipper. Ugh. Get a sole. 

You know who probably purchased a pair? The man/woman who threw a kitten from a moving truck on the Verrazano bridge. Poor kitty. This disgusts me beyond belief. Why would you ever do such a thing? I hope this person refrains from procreating. Thankfully the kitty, named Verrazano, was rescued and is doing well. 

In conclusion: people suck.

CHARM

But not all people! 

I want this girl to be my new best friend. She just goes around sewing poems in thrift store clothing. Thank god for art. 

When I'm a journalist, this is what I would kill to cover. (That is, after my stint as Dexter Morgan, first victim: kitty-flinging-waste-of-flesh moron.) It would be nice if the media covered the peaceful public, and spread messages that matter.

Bike riding is one of my favorite activities and form of exercise. A part of me dies every time I see someone biking around on campus because I wish I could have mine at school with me. Shipping it to Missouri would result in no bike for my island long rides of LBI during the summer. And every other summer bike ride. So, its permanent residence will remain Jersey. Anyways, apparently I'm not the only one who adores her bike!

As you can tell from the links, I am now coveting a potential future at GOOD. California would not be so bad; it's not the east, but it's still a coast!

"Wise women are beautiful women who've experienced a lot and have a lot to give back with just words."

"You can't find love within your soul without music"

"I believe part of the process of figuring yourself out is a way of connecting the dots between the fabulous and influential people around us all, like some sort of hidden constellation--you only have to know where to look."

"I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming."

To hiding on the backstreets. Hiding on the backstreets, Where we swore forever friends. On the backstreets until the end."

I wrote the previous Father's Day post yesterday afternoon. Last night, at approximately 7 pm we lost one of the greatest Sax players to have ever lived, Clarence Clemons. I felt his loss. I never had the oppurtunity to see him play with Springsteen live. And now, it will never be the same.

Naturally I heard the news via twitter, and ran to tell my dad. We skimmed the NYT article together and sat in disbelief. My dad quickly got up and came back with a huge poster I had never seen before. "I have to get this framed now, I got it at the last concert I went to." The poster is the cover of the "Born to Run," album. The classic image of Springsteen resting his arm on someone's shoulder who he is fondly smiling at. It is only once you open the album that you see whose shoulder he's leaning on--Clarence's. The poster is the album cover in full.

We watched the story on the evening news at 11 together. And then my dad pulled out his DVD of Springsteen's Born to Run album. It contained a bootlegged video of Bruce and the E Street band playing in London, the only footage of the band in full in their first 24 years together. We watched Clarence rock out on that sax during my favorite song, Jungleland. And then we watched the making of the album. Bruce poured everything he had into that album. And there's Clarence, talking about how much he loved Bruce and this album. And it gave me goosebumps. All the while my dad is sharing stories about Bruce, things I never knew about him and the band. I'm so lucky to have a father like him.

And I'm lucky that I'm starting to get to know him as a person, not just my dad. All these years I always attributed his love of "The Boss" to his adolescence, some teenage boy who admired from the start. My dad cracked a smile as he started telling me the first time he heard "Born to Run." He never really liked him bef Springsteen ore then, didn't get the big deal. He was driving with a girl he was dating at the time, and the song came on the radio (he explained AM/FM radio to me. I explained that while technology has advanced, I 'm still very much aware of what a radio is, and in fact an avid user) for the first time and she screamed and said "This is it! Pull over, pull over!" She wouldn't even let him keep driving. She made him stop and just sit there and listen to the song in silence.

As saddened as I am by "the big man's" death, I do not think I could have conjured up a more beautiful start to my father's day this year. At two in the morning, it was just my dad and I sitting in the living room reflecting on the loss of a legend, and our mutual love for great music.

"The screen door slams, Mary's dress waves, like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays"

Happy, happy Father’s day! Like any girl, I am indebted to my father for so very much: a home, food, clothing, and security. Yet his influence is not limited to, nor highlighted, in these material possessions. It is the examples he sets, the never ending stream of motivation he produces, and his huge, open and loving heart that have had the greatest impact on me. He is the main man; my friend, coach, cheerleader, and best critic. I owe my self-confidence, courage, and ability to bait a hook to him. He has taught me valuable lessons just by making me a huge part of his life. So, I just wanted to thank him, for all he has given me, and for helping me become the young woman that I am. So Dad, thank you. Thank you for showing me that everyone deserves forgiveness, that the best thing to do with a fish once you’ve caught it is to throw it back, and, despite my lack of athletic ability, (and age) always asking if I want to go play catch in the backyard.

Thank you for:

Bruce Springsteen: For blasting The Boss in your truck when I was just a wee squirt, and introducing me to one of your influencers. As I’ve grown, Springsteen has come to influence me, and you really were the medium through which that happened. (And as I write this, Tenth Avenue Freeze Out just came on the radio!) And thanks for having the most comprehensive collection of his work, I don’t think I’m missing a version of a single song.

Telling me to “Shake it off.” Whether it was a scraped knee, or the painful sting of hurt feelings, you were the first person to not just console me, but help me move and get on with life. Your “shake off the pain” mentality has followed me throughout life and is exercised in all that I do.

Teaching me that healthy is beautiful: For being my coach and health guru. You taught me to nurture genuine self-esteem and to push myself physically. Thanks for always dragging me to the gym, because as you always say, “You just feel better after a good work out! You work out, you shower, and you can accomplish anything. It helps you clear your mind, focus on your work and kill the stress of your day.”

Dad, you are absolutely right. Thank you for pushing me to workout because you know the positive effects it has on one’s emotional and mental health, and not for ever letting me get sucked into the harsh expectations the media creates for young girls. Thank you for wanting to go on bike rides with me. Whether its around town on a summer evening, or down the shore on an extreme ride, you are up for anything. I realize how lucky I am, that I have a father who loves to spend time with his daughters.

Thanks for making me fresh squeezed juice before we hit the gym, and thank you for those delicious Jersey tomatoes you grow in your garden. Thanks for growing a garden. Thanks for teaching me the benefits of fresh fruit and vegetables. Thanks for stressing a healthy lifestyle—it has impacted me more than you could ever come to realize, and is a major contributor of my self-confidence.

Making your own rules. Playing any board or card game with you is both hysterical and frustrating, because you are always under the impression there are no rules. Remember the time we played Monopoly (it was the first and last) and you were being your ridiculous self?

“Hey, Alex, I have a business proposition for you—it’s a really big deal, you know, you can’t pass this up! It’s SO cool.”

“Mm, yes Dad, what is it?”

“Now prepare yourself for the deal of a lifetime. I’m going to sell you my top hat!”

“WHAT?? You mean your token piece? You can’t sell your marker, and why would I even buy that?! Dad, WHAT are you talking about?!”

“Sure I can, this is MONOPOLY, I can sell whatever I want! Don’t you know anything about this game?!”

I refused to play Monopoly with you ever again. You did however, teach me to question the rules, and to ask “why not?”

For not being that frightening father at my t-ball games. You know, the one who would get red in the face with anger as he stormed around yelling and throwing things because his son did not run fast enough. Thanks for being easy going. And knowing that the point is to have fun.

Teaching me how to fish. For raising a daughter who, to this day, is definitely not afraid of ripping a worm in two and wrapping it around a hook. You raised a daughter who understands that hard work is often messy, frustrating, and not always fun, yet without it, success is impossible. Thank you for teaching me how to take the fish off the hook without hurting it or myself. I think this is where I got lucky, that I’m blessed with a dad who taught me to how to handle success, to avoid the harmful fins of jealousy, ego, and superiority. That, in life, it is not just about getting the things we never thought we could, but holding on to them. It is preserving valuable relationships, maneuvering through life without trying to cause each other harm. It is the way you handle your successes that defines who you really are. And of course, thank you for always throwing the fish back (sometimes kissing it first). Because of you, I know that true strength comes from letting go and that giving back is the greatest reward.

Feeding the deer. You hunt. Yet everyday, at 6pm you go out to leave crack corn for the deer. You get all excited when they come by, flip on the outside deck light, and just watch them. But you’ll take a day off of work to go hunting. So thanks for teaching me life is about contradiction.

For teaching me that “You can’t always get what you want.”

Always stressing the importance of family. That no matter what I do, who I chose to be friends with or date, or where I decide to live, my family will always love and support me. Always. No matter what. Thank you for your (MY) big, amazing Italian family. They are the rock I lean on, and where I extract my strength and courage.

Not being an asshole. Ever. Seriously. They say girls date and marry guys like their father (man do I have high expectations). Luckily for me, I’m not attracted to assholes, because I haven’t grown up with one. I don’t put up with being disrespected, because I know there are guys out there who treat women right.

HOWEVER

Making mistakes sometimes. Thanks for saying some less than intelligent things at quite possibly the worst of times. Thanks for embarrassing me from time to time. You made me realize NO guy is perfect, not even you, and guys do and say stupid things sometimes. And they don’t mean them. It just happens. Cut ‘em some slack.

Dad, I know every girl thinks her father is the best one out there, but you truly are the best guy. It’s true. Everyone loves Peter, everyone knows what a great guy he is, how much he loves his family, and that he would do anything for the ones he loves. You make everyone laugh and feel comfortable. You have the biggest heart, out of anyone I have ever met.

They say (Ok, so they = John Mayer) daughters love like their fathers do. Thank you. For teaching me that love matters more than anything else. And that everyone deserves it. Just like everyone deserves forgiveness. You always joke that you “Shoulda had boys!” In fact, remember how you knew I was going to be a boy? You and mom didn’t even check, you just knew. Peter Pisauro IV. Guess again, papa! No son for you. And Joelle is a girl. So, no son for you!

But you know, in my biased opinion, I don’t think you were meant to have boys. I think daughters are reserved for the best of guys, because it is the best of guys who deserve daughters. Yeah, you could have roughhoused with boys a bit more, but daughters feel their father’s influence more. Dad, thank you, for nurturing within me the greatest self-confidence and self-respect. Thank you for teaching me to love the way you do. I could not be more proud of the part of me that is a reflection of you and your love.

"Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs us"

Robert Mapplethorpe, "Untitled" (Patti Smith) 1973

A couple of weeks ago I finally finished Patti Smith's best-selling book, Just Kids. It documents Smith's escapades in the New York City art circle during the tumultuous late sixties, and the beginning and the end of the life-changing relationship she shared with Robert Mapplethorpe.

Smith is a legend and an icon, and this memoir captures the magic of her rise to success. One feels honored to be told her secrets, and privileged to know the details of her intimate, ever-changing relationship with Mapplethorpe. This is by far, one of the best pieces of nonfiction writing I have read. I will suggest it to everyone, although it is better suited for those with a love of Smith, and some knowledge of sixties pop culture so that when Smith tells you Allen Ginsberg was in the audience of her readings you can grasp the high level of talent that saturated Smith's world.

Yes, some will appreciate this book more than others, but I think it can be appreciated by all who love 'love.' This is not a love story. It is a story about love. Love of art, love of creation, and a love between two people that thrived off change.

"We needed time to figure out what all of this meant, how we were going to come terms and redefine what our love was called. I learned from him that often contradiction is the clearest way to truth."

Excuses, Excuses

Usually, I lack an excuse for my lack of consistent blogging. That is not the case as of late, as I am busy creating a new blog. You know, one of those professional ones, the kind where you archive all of your work and your grown up opinions about things that matter. I know, I hate it too.

However, had to do it. I will provide a link for it once it's finally up and running, but do not visit if you are looking to read something of color and sparkle.

As much as I love journalism, I do not always find it the most intriguing of topics to focus a blog around. I think journalism itself is an interest in others and culture. Thus this blog showcases those interests, not journalism as a subject. Yes, I read the NYT daily, but I don't really think anyone would find my opinion of articles very interesting. It is not that my opinions are not intelligent, or presented well. Rather, just dull when I reflect on budget cuts or politics. Now, wouldn't you rather read about gay glitter bombs? I sure would!

If, however, you find journalism to be a fascinating art form and crucial component in a functioning democracy, then please pay it a visit upon its completion! I will discuss my internship, what I'm learning because of it, my work, and my interest in journalism overall.

I think the creation of a "professional" blog will propel the success of this one, because it is removing a lot of my guilt. I created this blog as a means to publish my thoughts, yet the pompous bubble of that damn J-school makes me feel as though this blog is not serious enough. I struggled with how to incorporate more "mature" (ahem, dull) content into this blog. I decided to just separate the two, and create a whole new blog. Now that I have an outlet to showcase my resume and intelligent opinions, I no longer feel ashamed that this blog is fun and full of sparkle. Now I'm free to embrace said fun and sparkle, you know, when I choose to blog at all.

Basically:

NEW blog = NYT

This blog= People magazine

People might not be as respected or intelligent as the NYT, but let's face it, more people want to read it... which ACTUALLY is a key point in my first post: "Should journalists give the people what they want, or offer them what they should want? " (If you could careless then please stay here and soak up my thoughts on TARGET $1 daisies, the rarity of true friends, and Marc Jacobs 2011 resort collection!)

Happy Friday loves! Thought I'd share this little fa-la-la with you all, because what is more uplifting for the weekend than a headstone, right? The GOOD, asked if this was the most beautiful headstone in the world. Although I won't answer with a yes, I do find it stunning with its simplicity and sleekness.

It was the gorgeous epitaph of this deceased broadcaster and Joy Division discoverer, which prompted me to post this. It is an excerpt from Manchester Man.

"Mutability is the epitaph of worlds.

Change alone is changeless.

People drop out of the history of a life as of a land,

though their work or their influence

remains."

"Hold up your head, think about brighter days."

hello. This is Barefoot Truth. They have become one of my favorite bands within the past year.

I like to share. So here.

You should listen. Ok, that's all.

One more thing, you may thank me later.

"You're the last of your kind, Mona Lisa. With a wink of your eye, make it all right. Oh, there's more left to life, Mona Lisa."

I was talking with a very close, beloved friend the other night and she mentioned (still after two years) how much she loves a poem I gave her as part of a graduation gift. Desiderata, meaning "Things Desired" in Latin, is the most perfect poem. As she was reminding me of this, I realized how I hadn't uploaded it on here yet. In fact, I'm quite surprised that I haven't.

No matter who you are or where you are at in life, this poem pertains to you. It is applicable to every imaginable situation you could find yourself in (and I'm speaking from personal experience here). It's taped to my bedroom at home and I have a copy for college. It was included in all of my friend's graduation gifts. I want to bold my favorite parts, but that would result in me highlighting every single line.

So here it is, and I hope it brightens your day, everyday.

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interest in your own career, however humble, it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment is it perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome disciple, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

"She's just an American riding dream. And she's got a rainbow syrup in her heart that she bleeds."

Oh hi. Remember me? I'm the person who told you she would blog everyday and then didn't. Let's not talk about it.

What we can talk about is this beautiful journal I just purchased, and these "all new" BLACK pencils. They're not even all that great, I'm just amused and find them humorous. Actually, I haven't even sharpened them for use yet. Perhaps writing with them would have proved useful in writing a better review of this product. However, who cares about their practicality, or the satisfaction level when I get sheer enjoyment out of the package?

I find them clever. Maybe you do. Maybe you don't. Either way; HAVING AN OPINION IS THE NEW BLACK.

So is buying writing utensils just to photograph them apparently.