Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Something's gotta give!

When an irresistible force such as you
Meets an old, immovable object like me
You can bet just as sure as you live
Something's gotta give, something's gotta give, something's gotta give

When an irrepressible smile such as yours
Warms an old, implacable heart such as mine
Don't say no, because I insist!
Somewhere, somehow, someone's gotta be kissed

So I'm gone, who knows what the fates might have in store
From their vast, mysterious skies
I'll try hard ignoring those lips that I adore
But how long can anyone try?

Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight it with all of our might
Chances are, some heavily star-spangled night
We'll find out just as sure as we live
Something's gotta give, something's gotta give, something's gonna give!
-
Frank Sinatra, Something's Gotta Give

I love listening to Frank Sinatra. In fact, I asked for more of his music for Christmas. I especially like listening to his music around this time of year, when the hustle and bustle associated with the coming of the holidays starts to fill the world. Starbucks red cups, Christmas lights, busy stores, heavy coats, colorful scarves and gloves, Christmas music, hot chocolate, colder weather, cheery attitudes... it's such a romantic time of year, and his music just fits right into the scene.

For now, I'm happy to experience the romantic feeling of the season by myself and enjoy the sight of others enjoying it in couples. I can't seem to find anyone who's on the same page as I am, so I'm taking it as a sign that it's just not a good time for it for me, and I'm moving on. It's quite unsettling that most people seem to be in search of someone purely for the purposes of hurting or using them. So I'll just wait, and hopefully, it will be worth the wait.

The value of whatever happens now is kind of moot anyway because though I am mature for my age, I have so much more growing and learning to do, and I'm still establishing and strengthening who I am as a person. I've been so busy lately that I have not been able to serve all of my interests. There are so many things I want to do, and yet it so often seems like I don't have time for them.

Now that I'll have some extra time on my hands, I'm going to be focusing on some things:
-getting in shape through changing my diet and exercising more
-reading at least one book every week
-writing more often (see my most recent attempt at creative writing below, "der Kampf der Fliege")
-doing things that are calming to my soul, like walking through the Garden
Hopefully, doing this like this will help me slow down a little and regain some things I feel I've lost over the past few months.

Oh... and confidence is money.

Monday, November 26, 2007

der Kampf der Fliege

The Struggle of the Fly

He hovers quietly before dropping through the hole, investigating the source of attraction before delving into it. Seconds later, he discovers that it is merely flavored water which arouses his attention; sadly, it is too late. The cap of the bottle has already been replaced by the devious human whose waste attracted the fly.

The fly collides with the plastic lid. No success. The human reaches for the bottle, and soon, the fly has been submerged in the liquid which he had realized would not provide sustenance. Her hand shakes the bottle, pausing momentarily to check the status of the insect which she believes carries diseases and generally provides annoyances. All six legs of the fly kick out, raking the air for something solid to serve as a life preserver. She shakes the bottle again, the red liquid sloshing inside the nearly full bottle as the fly struggles to stay alive.

Ceasing the torture, she sets the bottle back down on her nightstand and surveils the fly's continued struggle. He is now floating atop the meniscus on his back, his wings submerged, as his legs continue to thrash as a result of what brainless panic he feels. There is no hope of escape, and yet, he works. This hopelessness of this predicament is the least of his worries as he fights the liquid with continued ferocity.

An hour later, she picks the bottle up again, wondering if his life has been mercifully ended. Considering his apparent inability to feel pain, she does not regret that he continues to struggle, his minuscule body shuddering in the water as he tries to flee his captor. She shakes the bottle again, this time hoping that it does kill him so he will no longer struggle. She steadies the bottle on the plastic of the nightstand. No such luck.

Over the next eight hours, the fly would continue to flail but taste no success; in the morning, his legs are finally still. Wondering if he has died, she turns the bottle on its side in order to more closely examine his form. Responding immediately to the motion, he awakens and begins to kick once again, as if walking on some otherworldly plane invisible to her eyes. His miserable life continues, though he could not harbor any hope even if he could grasp the situation in which he has placed himself.

Ignorance is bliss.

She leaves him, his tiny body dipped into the semisweet nectar, and eventually returns many hours later. His body is finally still, his legs no longer kick. She reaches for the bottle and causes displacement of the liquid. He still does not move. It finally appears he has abandoned his struggle and died, leaving behind a helpless body in a bottle of VitaminWater. She respects his late struggle but feels relieved that he is not perched on her wall or prancing with disease around her room.

In this way, we trample those under us, observing their struggles as if through a microscope, a pair of binoculars, a satellite connection. We once again experience the sour taste of our own past struggles but do not apply this recollection. We relish our successes and remain aloof.

Until some other being sees us, stranded, and puts the top back on the bottle, shaking it to exacerbate the situation and dramatize the struggle until we discontinue the fight. We look to fate, contacts, even celestial or spiritual beings to save us. We continue to flail. Some relinquish faster than others. All will eventually die.

...Ignorance is bliss.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Ristorante Toscano

RISTORANTE TOSCANO
Channeling Italy in Beacon Hill

I passed this quaint restaurant Friday on my way to work a shift at the 97 Charles Starbucks and was immediately drawn to its warmth. The street on which it is located, historical, picturesque Charles Street, is part of the exclusive Boston neighborhood known as Beacon Hill. I immediately went about making plans for a date at this restaurant and soon felt my instincts were validated by the high recommendations of those around me as well as multiple online reviews I found. Upon dining there tonight, I realized why the restaurant has stuck around for the past 20 years: it successfully channels Italy while maintaining unique qualities and the comfortable, romantic atmosphere I felt merely walking past the front door.

Ristorante Toscano does take reservations, both by phone and through an online web site, though I found we did not need them when we arrived for an early dinner. As the night progressed, the restaurant slowly filled. I would expect it to be quite packed on a Friday or Saturday night. Another quick detail: valet parking is available.

The service was prompt, friendly, and knowledgeable. Our waiter's heavy Italian accent gave more weight to the restaurant's Italian credibility, but he was sometimes difficult to understand. Still, he was helpful and obviously knew the menu (and wine list, with appropriate pairings) quite well. My water glass was refilled frequently enough that it was never less than half full. Our meals arrived quickly (though at that point, there were not very many other tables). The waiter was polite and respectful throughout the entire meal.

I ordered a salmon dish that came with grilled asparagus and a mustard sauce on the side. Frankly, I love asparagus; I don't know very many other people (who are not in my immediate family) who like it nearly as much as I do. Almost equally as rare is a restaurant that does grilled asparagus right. If it is over-grilled, it loses its natural vegetable crunch and is instead a little dry, with a crunch that is obviously inspired by excessive cooking, and may even be greasy. Many seem to forget that chicken, not asparagus, is for blackening. This asparagus was delicately grilled so that it had a somewhat smoky flavor which did not overpower the natural flavors, but still had the soft crunch of normal asparagus. The chef also avoided the mistake of over-seasoning.

The salmon was an obviously fresh piece that had been carefully spiced and cooked and was quite tender and delicious. Its smooth flavor blended with the tangy taste of the mustard sauce well. In the past, when my family did salmon and asparagus together, the flavors complemented each other well, so when I saw this item on the menu, I knew they were a good pair. However, my family did it completely differently: the asparagus was boiled and served with a French cream sauce, and the salmon was coated with herbes de Provence and broiled. Those were a good pair as well. I'm not sure what the secret is to pairing these two delicious food items and balancing them well, but it is well worth the effort. The salmon was arguably fresher than the salmon I had last night at Legal Sea Foods and had no overpowering flavor that often accompanies lower-quality catches.

Seafood and white wines go together well, but I knew only a few things about a couple of wines on their wine list, which was unique and drew my curiosity (if only I could have tried more...). There were a few chiantis on the list that specifically gained my attention, and I would have ordered one, but I was not having any red meat or pasta. I asked the waiter for a recommendation, and he offered the Verdicchio found under the Vino Bianco category. It was quite dry, which appealed to my taste in wine in the past, but went with the salmon and asparagus quite well.

Dessert consisted of a small slice of cheesecake that had an overwhelming lemon flavor to it. It was quite different from most cheesecakes I have ever had, but it was still delicious. I might recommend trying the tiramisu instead.

All in all, for such a meal at this restaurant, expect to pay more than you would at a chain, but the restaurant and its quality food, wine, and service is well worth it. If you're looking for a little piece of Italy, Beacon-Hill style, definitely give Ristorante Toscano a try.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Life is what you make it.

I had a revelation while driving down Memorial Drive, coming back from Katrina's absolutely fantastic Thanksgiving dinner.

I turned and looked at the city and genuinely enjoyed what I was seeing for the first time in a long time. I started to sort out in my mind that this was directly attached to having hung out with a friend (and just all-around awesome person) I haven't seen in a long time. I reflected on the fact that I have felt pretty distant from my friends since I got back because we don't share the same drinking habits or, and I take the blame for this, our schedules clash. I'm generally pretty good at making time for people, but when schedules don't match up, they just don't. My incredibly hectic 50-hour-work-week-plus-school schedule makes it even tougher.

Anyway... I've been having a tough time of it since I got back. However, as I drove back from Katrina's, things just felt easier... better. I remember not being able to figure out why certain people just couldn't get into the groove of their new city, but now I know why. This isn't a new city for me, but I am much different than who I was when I first came here, and adapting and growing can be very difficult when you can't connect with friends. Moving to a new city (or returning to one in which you've lived before) is much better when there's some sort of lifeline between you and the people around you.

I guess, to put it quite succinctly, you need to find your niche.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

You're so vain, you probably think this blog is about you.

Credit goes to Noreen "NoNo" for the title of this post.

Some people are really just totally and completely insane, out of their minds, just absolutely psycho. This woman came into Starbucks tonight. Word has it that she used to work for Starbucks but was fired - because she stabbed her manager with a thermometer. Scary. Anyway, she started talking to me about keeping a coffee shop clean. Suddenly, with absolutely no transition, she's talking about how there are people stalking her and how she has children to worry about and she just doesn't know where to go. Within a few minutes of me nodding quietly, she has once again changed topics (this time to illegal immigration) with absolutely no transition. She's saying how she'll leave, go to some other country, if they want her to do that. But she's not an immigrant. None of what she said made any sense, and few of the many things she said were strung together in coherent sentences. Finally, she said, "Okay, thanks for the talk!" and walked out. It was a very strange experience.

Others are desperate for attention or love. Delusional. In denial. But every once in a while, you come across a "balls-to-the-wall nuts" (thanks for the phrase, Chupie) person. I hope that woman doesn't actually have any children. And if she does... God help them. There's also courtroom insanity, like "I was temporarily insane when I shot my brother in the back, so please send me to a state mental hospital, not a rape-me-in-the-ass prison", but from what I've seen of those, most of the people who claim that insanity don't really seem insane. This woman, good Lord, she was crazy. She even had that wild-eyed look about her.

I guess we're all a little crazy in some way. Some of us have anger problems. Some of us have addictions. Some of us idolize celebrities. Some of us are in denial. Some of us lie like it's a job. There are plenty of types of crazy. Then, there are some people who are a mixture of a few types. Then, there are some who are just completely insane. But I guess that's what makes life interesting. I just wish they wouldn't try to be crazy while I'm trying to earn money.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Understanding desperation and ranting about the government.

For the first time, really, I'm understanding what it means to be part of the working class and to have that constant sense of desperation. It stems from the feeling that you're working too hard to lose any ground. I realized I understood it and felt it myself when I asked myself earlier how I'd react if someone tried to physically set me back somehow - ie, if I was attacked. My instant reaction, my first thought, was that I would tear the person to shreds. I could even visualize myself defending myself with the knife I carry with me and anything within reach... or even just my bare hands. I honestly think I could put up a pretty good fight knowing what was at stake.

I'm also started to feel increasingly alienated and am reacting by being more and more isolationist. Most of my friends don't have jobs. Some don't seem to have any consideration for the effort and time that go into having a job while in school. I'm starting to see a lot of the problems on which they focus as trivial or highly avoidable and not worth the time anyway. Most of my peers, especially at my school, which is packed with fashionably-dressed kids whose parents continue to pick up the tab for everything, don't have the faintest idea what this desperation feels like. I am so desperate to survive, so desperate to succeed. I don't want to put so much effort into something and have nothing to show for it. As a mostly self-funded student, I'm forced to spread myself thinly - full-time school and 50 hours/week of work will do that - and as a result, I'm just not doing as well as I could at any of the things I'm doing, which means I have less to show for any of it than I should. But still, I feel this desperation, and it is a relatively constant source of anxiety.

I guess this is also a reason why suicide doesn't really interest me the way it once did. It just seems stupid with how hard I work every day just to pay bills. Even getting sick is a huge frustration because I lose anywhere from 5-20 hours' worth of income each week that I'm sick, but I still feel as fatigued as I would if I had done classes and both jobs every day.

I also am understanding more fully how much government fails, especially here, in Boston. The government has so much territory to cover that it fails miserably. Take transportation in this city. If you're dependent on public transportation, buses and trains are rarely on time and nearly always overcrowded. Keep in mind that the MBTA (Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority) is substantially subsidized by the government. I should also note that the price of subway fare has doubled (from $1 to $2) since I first came to Boston in the summer of 2004. If you drive, you face a) horrible traffic, only made worse by the buses and pedestrians (who seem to have no idea that if a car hits them when they walk into the street without looking, it could very easily kill or maim them); b) paying $200/month for a parking pass or anywhere from $8-$40/day for parking; c) drivers who have little or no respect for traffic laws or driving practices commonly accepted everywhere else, only encouraged by a police force that seems to be completely unconcerned by people speeding, running red lights, or doing various other illegal things; d) crazy cabbies, enough said; e) a rampant lack of signs, including those labeling streets and anything regarding laws, as well as faded or completely eroded lane markers and other important markers (like "left turn only") painted on the roads; f) random potholes and construction here, there, everywhere; and g) a completely mad maze of city streets to which there is no method. The best, safest, most sane way of getting around in this city is walking, and even then, you have a fantastic chance of getting hit by a driver running a red light while speeding. Or just a driver who hates pedestrians and is out to take one down - even if you're careful and you look both ways.

How else does the government fail? I know there are housing laws about living conditions and state inspections, among other things. I want to throw these things in my landlord's face. But I can't. Why? I can't find them. Not a guide, a memorandum, a copy of the laws, a listing of them... nothing.

I called the police a few weeks ago. My upstairs neighbors were setting fireworks off INSIDE their apartment, which is, quite obviously, a fire hazard. I care about this because I live below them. The police obviously don't care who sets what buildings on fire, because they never showed up.

Why do I care about this so much? Because I pay an arm and a leg in taxes out of my paycheck every week. Seriously. Between social security, Medicare/Medicaid, and general, ambiguously-labeled federal taxes, I sacrifice roughly 25-30% of my paycheck every week. That's a LOT when you're not getting paid much. It's also ever more frustrating when I think about where those taxes are going. Social security money goes to a retired person who paid for the social security of the elderly people when he was younger... except that when I'm that age, there will be no more social security money. Awesome. Medicare/Medicaid goes to paying for the health problems of people I don't know who could have brought these things on themselves by eating excessively and allowing themselves to become obese, by smoking or drinking (or both) excessively, or generally by not maintaining proper health habits. So, no matter what I do to maintain my own good health, I'm still paying for expensive health care. As a matter of fact, I pay roughly the same amount each week for my own health insurance as I do for Medicare/Medicaid. So, basically, I'm paying for another person to have health insurance. Sorry, but when did I decide to have a dependent?

At least I know where those are going. The ambiguously labeled "Federal withholding" taxes are what really piss me off. Thousands of dollars of my hard-earned cash are going to... I really can't tell you what, especially with government budgets becoming ever more vague as the government wastes our money away. I thought the point of democracy was for people to have a say in their government? I know I don't support most of what's going on right now, but I'm still paying for it. That would be fine if the government provided basic infrastructure, but with the examples mentioned above, I'm not so sure it's doing a good job of that, either. Government seems to support the big corporations and anyone who isn't making enough money to support himself. So the people stuck in the middle get screwed over, and we're paying the government to do it. Awesome. What was that I was saying about suicide earlier?...

Friday, November 9, 2007

A day in the life of a campus activist.

7:30 am: Meet up with other activists (mostly old, judgmental Catholics) in front of the local Planned Parenthood. Spend the next two hours screaming "whore" at any young woman that walks by and is not covering 95% of her skin. Otherwise, pray the rosary and hold oversized pictures of bloody fetuses.

8:00 am: Note the sudden arrival of two unmarked Crown Vics. Wonder why individual men in suits are coming to Planned Parenthood.

9:30 am: Walk down to the classroom buildings and hook up with the LaRouche people. Force innocent passers-by to take fliers and magazines with articles written by people who are literally insane. Argue that 9/11 was a government-run stunt and that Hurricane Katrina was God smiting us for being naughty.

10:30 am: Loudly proclaim that Arnold Schwarzenegger and Dick Cheney are gay lovers. Dick's on top.

10:31 am: Put down signs calling for Bush's impeachment and assassination and try to bum cigarettes off the same people you were just harassing.

11:30 am: Lead the LaRouchies to a large classroom. Throw professor out of room. Take the microphone and loudly proclaim to 500 freshmen that you quit school to join the LaRouche movement, and they should, too. Why? Because he is truly enlightened.

1:00 pm: Migrate to new building funded by the government for mysterious purposes. Talk about biology when you don't know the difference between a mammal and a crustacean. Bring up 9/11 conspiracy again. Jump into traffic to attempt becoming an activist martyr... promptly get arrested.

3:00 pm: Get bailed out.

3:15 pm: On your way back to campus, decide to stop at City Hall and protest the Gay Marriage Amendment.

3:30 pm: Remember you're not gay. Protest anyway. Get in small-town congresswoman's face. Get carried back to campus by a horde of well-dressed men and women who look like men.

5:00 pm: Get arrested again, this time for harassing a woman in a fur coat in the campus square.

6:00 pm: Get bailed out by local PETA chapter.

6:15 pm: Agree to participate in bombing of Planned Parenthood/brand that does testing on animals/some government establishment.

6:30 pm: Realize that could put you in jail with Arnie the Ass-tickler for a long time. Remember you're not gay. Offer to have everyone come over to your place and smoke weed instead.

7:15 pm: Get munchies. Realize that your drunk roommate mistakenly ate all of your vegan food instead of his leftover steak. Start discussion about starving children in Africa.

8:00 pm: Respond "Yeah, man!" when some girl starts spouting off ideas. Note her cuteness, dreadlocks, and pungent body odor.

Yadda yadda yadda...

7:00 am: Wake up next to girl with dreadlocks. Nearly puke at smell and resolve to start showering again. Suggest a team shower. Get shunned by other activists.

7:05 am: Lock the door after all the other activists have stormed out. Go back to bed confused about future, outlook, sexuality, eating habits, God, and government.

Note: I do not condone any of the activities or beliefs listed here. This is meant to be a humorous look at the lives of the insane people we students interact with on a daily basis.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Hitting bottom and looking up.

When you hit bottom, it's kind of like a trampoline. You'll keep hitting bottom, over and over again, until you pull yourself up or use your momentum to jump higher.

I guess that's a weird analogy... but it's pretty much the way I feel.

To put it in more dignified words: If you're hitting bottom, you'll be staying there until you get yourself out of the mayhem and despair. No one else can bail you out. You have to pick yourself up and give it your best shot.

One of the best things about people is that we can change directions in our lives at a moment's notice if we wish. We can redirect our forward or backward momentum and go a completely new direction. You just have to set your mind to it.

I guess that gives anyone with a healthy sense of determination an advantage. I have never been seriously faulted for being strong-willed. I think things through pretty carefully before I make a decision. However, once I make a decision, I'm all in. My personal theory is that my strong resolve and general confidence about life are rooted in the support I have from my family. They have been and always will be my biggest asset - because I know I can count on them, and in return, they can count on me. They know I consider my options and are always willing to provide advice, but once I make a decision, they back me up. That can be a difficult job with me being a big dreamer. The greatest gifts I have ever received are the love and support of my family. As cheesy/corny/sappy as that sounds... it's the honest-to-God truth.

Something I've learned lately: Anger is almost never the answer. Silence frequently is the answer, though often on a short-term basis. Drama, antics, temper... these things distract you from the real reason why your heart beats inside your chest. Do you live to upset me? Is your sole purpose in life ruining someone else's day? Misery is contagious. Why waste time on being upset or upsetting others? Life is short, and we have so much to experience. Even if you do not have an appreciation for the more enjoyable experiences in life, respect that others might. You respect yourself by respecting others. Where anger persists, happiness does not.