K Urban Beach

Esta foto foi tirada numa sala de uma das discotecas mais “in” da cidade alfacinha! Sala das luzes (como eu lhe chamei!)! Ao entrar sente-se literalmente todas as cores do espectro visível a penetrar-nos no olhar. A visão tenta acompanhar o ritmo de movimentos e tons realizados pelas luzes. O cérebro esgotado de tanta variedade de informação acaba por deixar-se envolver e desfruta o momento!

Canon EOS Digital Rebel XSi
Focal Length: 35.0mm
Exposure Time: 0.017s (1/60)
Aperture: f/7.1
ISO: 400

If I didn’t have my Ipod I would die. Being able to create a soundtrack to my life while walking around NY and taking public transit is the difference between my riding the subway and throwing myself in front of one.

But I exaggerate.

Although, I love being able to put my earphones in and tune out the cabbies, people on their cells, and the sirens. When I listen to music, my daily commute becomes an introspective, transitory montage from an overrated Indie flick. My walks become the jaunty strut of Michael J. Fox in The Secret of My Success when I pump up Simple Minds and Robert Palmer. And solo cab rides are made so much more meaningful and poignant when infused with some AC/DC.

Here’s a fun activity for you and a friend: create soundtracks for each other. You’ll learn a lot about what you’re friend thinks of you. Do not, however, enter into this game with a significant other. You’ll be listening to your mix happily until you come to “If you can’t be with the one you love, Love the One You’re With” as redone by Luther Vandross. You are then obligated to break off the relationship immediately due to the combined sin of the lyrical message and Luther Vandross’ presence on the CD.

Moral of this daily story: If you’re feeling small–buy a Nano.

I have a love story I’d like to write. It’s been playing in my head in flashes here and there, so I wrote this to get the ball rolling on making these two people real.

Waiting

She told her just once, she’d like
someone to pry open her chest,
help clean up the mess that comes out
even if it means they get their hands dirty.

She stood there like a tree, her leaves falling
all around her, her season
finally finding its reason for change.

She saw her smile
years before they met.

She heard her footsteps
on concrete in a dream.

They’d been waiting for this sort of love:
the kind that breaks you into pieces
with the hope you can glue it back
into something that holds water.

 Rising from my seat, I stood up to meet the recently arrived guest, as our hostess escorted her into the room where other guests and I were enjoying refreshments. As I waited my turn to be introduced, I noticed the newly arrived guest’s attire; she wore a brown and amber-ish alpaca hooded-poncho, that  topped a pair of  dark chocolate wool pants.  The hostess finished the introductions; the  newly arrived guest then removed her poncho to reveal a very crisp white tailored blouse underneath a ‘Katherine Hepburn’ styled jacket that matched her pants in fabric and color ~ and then, 

Judith M. Heimann's book

I heard another guest say, “Judith, congratulations on the documentary that PBS did on your book!” Judith graciously accepted the congratulation and other guest continued with a request, ”Please tell us more about your book and the documentary.” For the next hour, or more, the other guests and I were delighted as Judith M. Heimann told us of her recent book The Airmen and the Headhunters and the recently aired PBS documentary of the same title. 

Tribesmen of Borneo

She explained to us that it took her ten years and four continents to tell the story of airmen, who crashed landed in Japanese-occupied Borneo, an island in the South Pacific, and the heroic tribesmen, who gave safe refuge to the airmen.  Judith continued to explained that in 1992,  while in Australia, she was writing about the life of Tom Harrisson.

Austin Palmer Method of Handwriting

It was then that she came across a letter addressed to Maj. Harrisson, written in  the rounded Palmer Method (a handwriting method taught in the American schools in the 1940s); the letter was signed by nine WWII airmen and referenced the little-known special operation that Harrisson led behind enemy lines ~ she knew there was a ’story’ within the story of Tom Harrisson’s life that had to be uncovered and told.

Indeed, a special evening at the home of a friend. 

Oh, did I mention that Judith was wearing an elegant pair of dark brown ankle boots?

If you are a novice in the kitchen and know enough cooking to boil water this recipe is for you. We are just going to assemble a few processed goodies and some vegetables and rice to make a wonderful meal.

Time Taken : About 40 Minutes

Serves: 2 Persons

Ingredients:
1 packet Chinese Manchurian Knorr make a meal
1 cube Maggi Chicken concentrate OR 1 cube Maggi Vegetable concentrate
2 Cups of Soya Chunks
1 small onion
1 small carrot
1/2 a  small  cabbage
1 small capsicum OR 2 Big green Chilies
2 spring onions
Some red OR green chili sauce
Some vinegar and green  chili  sauce
1 cup rice
salt
ghee

Method:

Wash the rice in cold water. Soak the rice for 20 minutes in cold water.Throw away the water used to soak the water.  Take 2 cups of water in a pan add the soaked  rice,  a pinch of  salt and a little ghee and cover the pan with a lid and boil the rice on Simmer setting of your gas burner till the rice is tender.( Do not stir the rice while it is cooking.The rice will be cooked by the time all the water is used up. )

Grate all the vegetables and mince the spring onions. Put the spring onions aside.Take a wok add a little ghee and sauté the vegetables for 5 minutes. Add 3 cups of water to the vegetables. Add the chinese Knorr Manchurian make a meal mixture and bring to boil. Simmer for 5 minutes. Set aside.
In a little water boil the chicken cube or the vegetable cube ( as per your taste) and set aside.
Boil 4 cups of water in a pan add 1/4 tea-spoon salt and add 2 cups of Soya chunks and boil for 10 minutes. Use a strainer to get rid of the water used to boil the Soya chunks and to wash them in cold fresh water. Squeeze out the excess water.Put some ghee in a wok and fry the Soya chunks till they are a little brown. Add the boiled chicken or vegetable concentrate to the wok and bring to boil till the chunks absorb the concentrate a little and add the mixture of Soya chunks and concentrate to the Manchurian sauce.Garnish with the minced spring onions.

Your meal is ready. Use the chili  sauce as per your taste.

COOK IT UP A RECIPE WEB SITE

I live in an area of Manhattan of disputed category. Some call it the Upper West Side. Some, Manhattan Valley. And then some call it Harlem. My neighborhood is at that awkward stage of gentrification where all kinds of people feel they have a right to inhabit these 10 square blocks. It’s an area ripe with cultural flavor and seasoned with just a pinch of racial tension.

Recently, I headed home through my neighborhood, walking quickly because it was dark outside and I was alone. I was waiting for the light to turn so I could cross, when a silver Mercedes–or some other kind of ridiculously expensive car–slammed its breaks to stop in front of me and driver rolled down his window. He was a middle aged white man with a panicked look on his face.

“Excuse me,” he asked, “how do you get out of here and back to the Upper West Side?’

I had a moment of moral dilemma. A second where I could have said many things, like:

“You’re afraid of getting jacked.”

“You’re in the Upper West Side. Maybe just more ‘upper’ than you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t know. I’m busy.”

or

“You’re asking me because I’m the only white person on the block right?”

In the end, I ended up restraining myself from all presumptuous and rude comments and I gave him directions…..to the Upper East Side. Sure it’s not where he wanted to go, but at least he’d feel safe enough to get out of the car and look at a map.

This scene greeted me at my doorstep early last week. Perhaps someone is trying to drop me a hint that I need to be more boisterous or energetic? Probably not.

Two sugar packets and a giant McDonald's soda

Umm…thanks?

There are many singers and bands who have started their music career in Madrid’s concert venues. Do you want to get to know some of them?

Pereza

Source: pereza.info

Pereza is a pop-rock band made up of Rubén and Leiva, which has already released six albums: Pereza, Algo para cantar, Animales, Los amigos de los animales, Aproximaciones and Aviones. Despite their great success, they started performing in small clubs of the capital, especially Siroco, where they used to play covers of the rock band Leño. Pereza are cockiness and a bunch of good rock songs, many of which talk about their city, Madrid. They assure that their favourite place of Madrid is El Capricho Park, and, despite being rock stars, they think of themselves as “just normal people”.

Conchita

Although she was born in Finland, she is Madrilenia at heart. Conchita broke into the music scene in 2007 with her album Nada más, and she’s repeating this success with her latest work, 4000 palabras. Madrid’s venues have played an important role in Conchita’s success: her first concert took place in Montacargas. For her, music is one of the best things to enjoy in the city, although her favourite places in Madrid are “Gran Vía, a Sunday walk through El Rastro and Retiro Park… Madrid is full of all kinds of people and you never stop knowing new places. And I love sunny winter days, despite being cold!”.

Vetusta Morla

In November, Vetusta Morla have finished their 2009 tour, by performing in those venues where they played for 10 years before releasing their first album, Un día en el mundo, and becoming stars: El Sol, Caracol, Café de La Palma, La Riviera and Joy Eslava. Although their first time was in Siroco, which “was the best at that moment and we fully enjoyed it. We are happy to see that these stages have recovered their privileged status”.

Photo by VC Ferry

I light a cigarette
trying to keep it down

to
a pack a day…

I mean
after all, I’m not
‘The Marlboro Man’
I’m gonna die someday

right?
like everybody else

only I’m on the
fast track

dizzy with uncertainty

only certain

that I’ve lost my way

I light up another
cigarette
and choke down memories
of softer touches
and sweeter smells

of hope

and you…

always thinking

that we’ll bump into

each other someday

and I feel like

I’m in the middle

of a bulls-eye

and you’re pulling

back the string

and I look out onto
the dead city
with hollow dreams
and vacant chants
of sycophants
who
cling to the past
and what was

the best
of the worst
review

they ever had

and

I light one

more

still

thinking

of

you

L. K. Thayer

All Rights Reserved

© 2009

When you ride the subway, it is your mission, your duty to avoid eye contact at all possible costs. You can sneak a glance at those around you, but as soon as they feel your gaze, they’ll look up to make sure it’s not some psycho staring them down. In a panic, you avert your eyes and try to play it cool.

I often concentrate so much on fulfilling my obligation to this societal law, that I couldn’t tell you if the person next to me is a man or a woman. I have to pretend to look at the advertisement behind them so I can figure it out.

I did that tonight when riding the train home late, alone. A person of indiscernible sex sat very close to me. If it was a man, I would have had to tense my body, keep my arms tucked in, and my eyes down. The objective it to move as little as possible. Luckily it was a woman–as I found out while pretending to be interested in how to cure my man’s impotence issues.

Sometimes I’ll think that I recognize someone. I think they’re from my past somehow. Work. Maybe one of my fellow habitual 6:30 am commuters. Then I realize the only reason I think I recognize them is because I looked at them for 1 minute, 5 minutes ago.

Maybe that’s the definition of a New York minute–one glance and you feel like you’ve got everyone figured out.

To continue my love for Nashville, I dedicate this post to the city life.

The thing I love about Nashville is that you can go from rolling hills in the countryside to the hustle and bustle of the city in mere minutes. And, when you do get to the city, there is no city like Nashville. Every side street and every alley offers a new perspective to the “Athens of the South.”

These pictures were taken specifically for Vanderbilt Hospital. My cousin, Carrie, works on the myelosuppression floor and wanted some iconic pictures of Nashville to cheer the place up, so we went on a photo expedition and this is what we ended up with!

Arizona Quilts by Victor Mario Zaballa
The artwork at this station highlights personal and communal celebrations and achievements through hand-painted photo tiled walls and intricate metal railings. The metal panels evoke the look of lace or Mexican paper cuts. The tiles and panels recall the rich heritage of quilts, a cross-culture icon highlighting different migration waves.

Why light rail art on Thursdays? Click here.

“I like your boobs.” That’s what some guy whispered to me on the sidewalk today. As he walked towards me he moved closer so that I could hear him as we passed. I was wearing a large overcoat and a scarf that hid my chest completely.

I walked on without breaking stride. It was dark and I was not on a good block. My thoughts, however, were broken. What? Why? Who does that? How absurd!

I spent most of the train ride home wondering how he felt. Did he give himself a pat on the back? Good job, Joe. You proved yourself a man today. Did he get off on it? Was he thinking about me at that moment I was thinking about him?

That led me to wonder, how many times a day do complete strangers have an image of you in their head? How long does my image stay there? What do they assume about me?

When I got home I regretted that I spent so much time thinking about a pervert and then sat down to write this story.

Age: 27

Hair: Black with Red Streaks

Height: 5′6

Method: The Chair Line

Advancement: Always leaving them wanting more

It’s funny that I’m in the same exact spot I was a little over 18 hours a coffee shop doing some writing. Only last night, I was unaware of it being open-mic night. Instead of the local beer that is occasionally on tap, I’m drinking a coffee that I have put very little sugar in and a douchey professional is on the other end of my four person table. It’s like returning to the scene of the crime.

I was unsuccessfully attempting to do some work when a long strand of teenagers warbling tone-deaf versions of Katy Perry, Oasis, Ryan Adams, Bright Eyes or any other song you’ve probably heard while confined in karaoke or open-mic night.  Eventually, this cute little hipster girl comes up to me and asks if she can borrow my chair. And a lightbulb goes off.

Now the chair line was introduced to me by one of my best friends. And how it works is like this. A pretty girl comes up to you and she asks “Hey are you using this chair”, you reply with some variation of, “Oh no, I’m sorry you can’t have this one, I’m attached to it, but you can have that one”…Sadly this works every single time. I never understood why it worked for him, but this project is about doing things I wouldn’t normally do. So I use the line.  And, like always, it elicits a giggle and a half-smile.  Works every single time fellas.

So I sit there and I keep attempting to write in vain, since I constantly steal glances at this bird, only to look away when occasionally caught. I’ve you have gone to middle school you are entirely familiar with the practice.

Twenty minutes goes by and this girl steps up to the mic, and I’m intrigued enough to not even pretend to be writing anymore. I close the laptop. She’s not half bad, not amazing. When she comes over again, I tell her that she wasn’t half bad.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment”

“Well you took the chair from me, I’m still a little hurt”.

Insert another giggle and some more talking. I asked if she wanted to get some fresh air. She asked me if I had a light. I mentioned I had one in my car, we took a little walk. I give her the light and she took a puff and then started to kiss me. This proceeds for a few minutes and were going on some variation of a warm temperature and a weight that isn’t light. Then it happens.

She stops. She tells me that she should probably get back. Her friend is waiting for her, and she hopes to see me back at the coffee shop, but I kind of already gathered my stuff…and didn’t want to walk back. I just asked for her number.  I’m not sure if I should go for the encore.

We spend the first quarter of our lives trying to fit in, doing the same things as our friends and wearing the same clothes. Yes, to blend in is to fit in.

It took me a while but I’ve realized that, the older we get, the more we celebrate our unique interests, tastes and styles. Unlike our childhood and teenage years, being geeky makes you stand out in good way. My junior high self would be so confused by this notion.

I have to remind myself all the time that living in a city with so many things to do and see, there’s no excuse for not being geeky about something. There are restaurants opening every week, classes for everything and every kind of show imaginable. And because there are so many budget-friendly options, there’s no reason not to take advantage of them.

In High Fidelity fashion, on my top 5 all-time things I’d like to write about if knowledge and vocabulary were not obstacles, music would be #2 (wine is #1, duh). I certainly would like to be geekier about music. I like listening to music, I’m a fan of attending shows but I don’t know much about the mechanics. Luckily, live shows are crazy accessible. My new goal is to attend any show that strikes my fancy and agrees with budget and schedule. (Shows through Ticketmaster need not apply). Empty Bottle happens to be within walking distance. Perfection.

Joe and I saw Girls at Empty Bottle last Thursday. Dominant Legs and Real Estate opened. I messed up on the time, so we arrived suppperrrrr early. Probably before the bands. I enjoyed Dominant Legs’ beats and catchy pop songs. However, watching someone sing to along with a keyboard is only so exciting.

Dominant Legs. The dude is also in Girls.

Real Estate. I enjoyed their music more online that in person. Joe disliked.

I actually came to the show to see Girls. Their songs are dreamy and pop-like, yet cynical. My usual complaint about Empty Bottle is that the music-to-vocal-sound-ratio is terrible. But Girls sounded crisp and true to form.

Girls

One of these days, I’ll learn how to upload .avi files. Until I become video savvy, I’ll work on becoming a music geek.

They’ve bought Mau maybe two more weeks of relative comfort, after which we would expect to see a very quick decline.

Two weeks is also the amount of I have left in my current apartment.  I’ve avoided talking about my job on the internet for obvious reasons, but at this point they can’t afford to fire me.  Literally.  To fire someone you have to PAY them, and that hasn’t been happening in a timely manner for months, or at all for weeks.  We’ve been teetering at the brink of folding for awhile, and I suspect our time is almost out.  So far I’ve kept afloat but between vet bills and the lack of consistent paychecks I can’t continue.

I don’t want to wreck my credit over this, and as much as it KILLS me to give up my warm little apartment, I’m lucky to have the option of staying with my brother for awhile.

Since Mau’s health will most likely begin to plummet right around moving day …. it’s not worth the stress on him, just to gain a day or two.

Mau will not be making the move with me.    For almost nine years, virtually my entire adult life, my sense of home has been rooted around my cat.  Please tell me how I’m going to get through this, and don’t say steroids.