Happy Halloween, NYC

Getting scared shitless and eating coconut cake sounds about exactly right this time of year. Unfortunately, tonight I'm afraid I'll be eating wan-tan/won-ton/wan-ton (wanton?) soup and all that will be scaring me is the thought of what all this Halloween candy will be doing to my ever increasing waistline. I'm feeling less than stellar right now, as the neverending game of "I think I'm getting sick" has gone into overtime and my body is losing the battle against whatever crap the damn yankee weather has brought with it. Despite this, I seem determined to make myself wholly, as opposed to partially, sick off of office Halloween candy. Between the swedish fish and the snarky comments about our current website, it's kind of like trick or treating, except you don't get to dress up and there is no movement involved other than perhaps a small swivel in your office chair when no one else is looking.

I want to know all about Kurt's current weirdness, as I haven't seen him in a good 2 or 3 years. And yes, I do think of Anna sometimes when I feel sorry for myself. Just kidding. But I'll write it at the top of my journal so everytime I pull it out in tears, I can be reminded that life could be a little (or a lot) worse. Speaking of life being worse (scheidenfreude is the word of the day, too bad I can't spell it properly), even though you rejected Sean P's facebook friend request (and we are not talking Sean P Diddy here) you have absolutely got to read the notes. SO SAD. The worst part is that everytime he writes a facebook note he somehow manages to tag his entire directory of "friends" (I use this term loosely, obviously) in these notes so I end up getting an email saying I've been mentioned. What a lie! I am thus unwillingly privy to his entire depressingly emotional tirade about how his stripper fiance dumped him. I keep getting duped into reading other people's crap, even though sometimes it's legitimatly my fault for being bored and/or nosy. Facebook- 1 pt., Bonnie- 0 pts. bah!

Anyways, I suppose I celebrated enough Halloween over the weekend to count for this year, even if I do end up at home on my couch tonight. The weekend was marvelous as usual, Friday night we went to the Access Hollywood halloween party on the Lower East Side and I met a very hot Russian cosmonaught named Dave, who got the digits but has yet to actually phone me. O well. Fun while it lasted. We'll skip Saturday and suffice it to say it was interesting... the night ended well, with a trip to The Fat Black Pussycat and some druken bootydancing with a baseball player, a frat boy (not sure if that was a costume) and a couple inmates. Santa threatened Ben, and the naughty jailer was trying to unzip one of the inmates' stripy pants. It was slightly disturbing and very hilarious. At one point, I heard my name (seemingly, out of nowhere) and it took an entire 5 minutes for Jason to pull off his multiple masks and reveal himself as Peter, one of the apostles of the summer. Which was also very hilarious. I was the ipod commercial, btw, and I must say it was the absolute best costume I've ever had. Even before the sloppy dancefloor of TFBP, it gave me an actual reason to dance like a maniac all weekend (as opposed to dancing like a maniac because I am a maniac, which is usually how it goes). I know you saw the Today Show segment, but imagine me all in black (yeehaw knee-high boots) with no less than 5 products in my hair, waving my (broken) ipod around as I headbang all. night. long.

I'm sure you will have the best time ever tonight and I promise not to bother you at any point tomorrow, as you'll undoubtedly need the entire day to recuperate.

xoxoxoxoBon
ps- why didn't Sunjay call you on your birthday? bad Sunjay! bad bad Sunjay! and bad relatives! wtf mate?

And finally, she updates...

Yes, I have sucked, but you can't blame me: half the weekend was spent working, the other half getting scared shitless and eating coconut cake.

It was a good birthday: low key, minimal family discord (although let me tell you, Saturday night before Lisa and I got out was reeeeal fun...), a delicious cake. Only you and Lee remembered to call me. Whatever. I'm glad y'all had fun Saturday night, being K-Fed and...whatever you were. What were you? Talladega Nights? You did look pretty cute in that costume.

Tomorrow night will be somewhat fun, I hope. We don't have a Scooby Doo, so I guess we'll have to make our schtick "Where is Scooby?" and let that be our mystery. I'm okay with that; it's one less thing to lose. I just don't really know what is going to happen, in regards to anything and everything. I talked for a long time to Sarah last night; that was much-needed and very helpful.

I miss her; I miss you. I miss having someone close. Do you know what I mean?

Also, Kurt was at church yesterday and was truly as weird as ever. Do you ever feel sorry for him? How disappointing must his life be, to have spent so long managing a fast food place and then to be rejected from teaching, his one true dream. He may be obnoxious all the darn time, but I bet it's just one of the side effects of his life. I think maybe the same can be said of Anna, who still washes windows over at the Circus every other week. Every time you feel sorry for yourself (which isn't often, I should think), just remember that you could be Anna. Ha ha ha.

I can't wait till you come home next week!

xxxAnnie

Gimme Some of That Spam

check out the spam email I got today in my yahoo account:

For example, an accidentally flatulent class action suit indicates that a mating ritual inexorably buys an expensive gift for a pathetic senator. A turkey prays, and an infected line dancer sweeps the floor; however, the mortician writes a love letter to some seldom purple tabloid. When a skyscraper inside a skyscraper trembles, a greasy plaintiff earns frequent flier miles. Now and then, a ball bearing secretly befriends a knowingly alleged insurance agent. The wheelbarrow living with a fairy, a paper napkin related to the cowboy, and another smelly freight train are what made America great!
Some pickup truck inside the grand piano procrastinates, and a chess board for a buzzard hesitates; however, a mean-spirited jersey cow eagerly trades baseball cards with the briar patch. For example, the particle accelerator indicates that a bowling ball figures out the most difficult fruit cake. Most people believe that a turkey completely secretly admires a stoic blood clot, but they need to remember how knowingly the turn signal defined by an apartment building beams with joy. When a tabloid is gentle, the outer globule tries to seduce the inferiority complex. A grand piano around the ski lodge feels nagging remorse, but a satellite secretly admires an asteroid inside an ocean. Another CEO inside a warranty takes a coffee break, and a so-called pickup truck leaves; however, a fundraiser beyond an ocean knows a roller coaster from a blithe spirit. When you see the wheelbarrow, it means that some carpet tack from a salad dressing starts reminiscing about lost glory. When the proverbial pine cone hibernates, a college-educated graduated cylinder wakes up. The freight train for a mortician has a change of heart about a satellite. Sometimes the college-educated jersey cow flies into a rage, but a wisely obsequious hole puncher always knowingly gives lectures on morality to a tomato!
A revered graduated cylinder
Any plaintiff can be a big fan of the skyscraper beyond a cab driver, but it takes a real ball bearing to take a peek at a shabby razor blade. Sometimes a demon reads a magazine, but a light bulb defined by a skyscraper always operates a small fruit stand with the blithe spirit about a hydrogen atom! When a scythe living with a turkey is magnificent, a gentle fighter pilot competes with a stovepipe near a warranty. A vacuum cleaner about the bullfrog self-flagellates, and the minivan of the fairy beams with joy; however, a deficit for an earring makes a truce with the reactor about another paycheck.

can you even believe this?? in the middle was an ad for prescription drugs or something, cleverly hidden in someone's drug trip. the spammer spent an incredible amount of time trying to get through the email filters with all this garbled text! did give me quite a laugh though-

xoxoxoxoBon

Making Headlines

Today's News! Read all about it!

Bonnie & Michael make their modeling debut

Pope John Paul II: An Animated Hero

Scare Your Children Shitless (no thumbsuckers here)

xoxoxoBon

Two Things of Utmost Importance

Don't forget to floss.

Or explore the abandoned subways.

xoxoxoxoBon

Shiver shiver

When it is 50 degrees AT MOST during the day

and 28 degrees at night

and I have on sweatshirts, sweatpants and socks

and I am huddled under a sheet and three blankets



WHY THE FLYING FUCK ISN'T THE HEAT TURNED ON???

Frigidly yours,
Annie

Coming Home... Eventually

There are a lot of things that are hard about being an adult: two weeks a year hardly seems like a vacation, bills kind of suck, sulking can no longer be chalked up to being an angsty teen, and after you leave the nest you can't seem to find Mac & Cheese as good as mom's ANYWHERE.

But one of the worst things about growing us is that the world expects you to quantify everything about your life, usually in terms of monetary value. Let's forget about life insurance; I'm sure I'm not "worth enough" at this stage anyways. But how could I possibly be expected to put a price tag on my time, or someone else's time? I'm not even talking job- or project- wise, hourly wages are a whole other ballgame. But as I stare at the dozens of over-priced flights and compare multiple carrier and discount sites until my eyeballs are about to burst, I can't help but think how unfair it is that I must make the decision between $50 more or an hour and 20 minutes more time with my family. Is that hour and change worth $50? It is worth $100 to have an extra two hours? Is my waking up at 6 am worth the $45 it would save me? Is being able to have Mom's dinner three nights instead of two worth the almost $100 extra that flying in the evening would be?

It's enough to make a girl want to crawl back to her apartment and spend the holidays alone.

I'm just tired of having to make decisions about how much things are worth to me, because in the end, I always end up feeling like I've been cheated. I suppose this is because when it comes to things like time, and effort, and love, you can't just quantify- you just can't. You can't put a price on your life, regardless of what the bank or the insurance company or anyone else tells you.

xoxoxoxoBon
ps- I absolutely loved our weekend together. I had the time of my life :)

I want to be a Mets star and a Yankees star and a basketball star and a dinosaur expert star...

How I wish I were still in New York with you. This weekend was the happiest time I've had in a long time. I really can't remember another time when I felt so relaxed, at ease and not at all anxious. Your apartment -- the city -- is a haven for me, it seems.

So now I can't wait for Thanksgiving!!

However, work lies ahead: all of this week and all up until Thanksgiving, after which there won't be too much left but finals, I think. Blah, work. Ew. I'm sure you feel the same.


I hope the balls went over well (I'm sure they did) and that perhaps plans will be made with Johnny Appleseed soon and that hold-me-man has gotten the picture...

Love you! Miss you!

xxxAnnie

Silkscreening & Other Endeavors

According to the American Apparel Wholesaler Application, B.Sharpe Designs is now officially a real company specializing in hand painted apparel items.

Perhaps the application reviewers will take such pity on my non-updated site that they will give me an ab-fab price list and I can really do something with my "business."

I can't wait to work outside of an office.

xoxoxoxoBon

My Sweatpants Await Me in 10 Short Hours

1) Just talked to mom- if you call her, she'll drive you to the airport (with Ghostwriter!). She just said to call and ask.

2) Watch this if you haven't already.

3) The weather here pretty much sucks too- I'm just waiting for the skies to open up around 10 am (which is almost now) like the weather-gods promised. I am hungry, and instead of eating the catered breakfast downstairs, I'm photographing the clients. Ah, such is the life of a lowly production coordinator.

Tonight will bring Lupe and laundry, and some Sun-Wah leftovers (small joy in a styrofoam container). Tuesdays are so unfortunate.

xoxoxoxoBon

Die, rain, die

I'm pretty sure that it's totally busted that it's cold and rainy today. This is October! It's supposed to be crisp and sunny and full of crimson hues and golden squash! I effing hate this wet crap.

It's been an awkward couple of days what with Melissa's boyfriend Adam staying here. I mean actually staying here, since Friday. In my room. Where I sleep and eat and get dressed. He's very nice, and I know he doesn't have anywhere else to go (he's visiting from Cali) but it still makes me feel a bit strange, having a third, male roommate. I got up really early yesterday to leave the room and study in the student union (which was fortunate, because we had yet ANOTHER fire alarm about 30 seconds after I left!); and I was up early this morning to come to work. So that waking-up awkwardness is eliminated. But I keep going to bed at ungodly early hours (not so bad, really, but I can't fall asleep that fast) so as to stave off the weirdness of that, and I feel lame. He probably thinks I am one big sleepy dork, and he wouldn't be terribly wrong. Sigh.

Sunjay is home. It's very nice, of course. But I keep being annoyed with him, and I don't know why. Maybe my temper is short because I've been under so much stress lately. Hopefully it will clear up in the next couple of days. I only have this time with him. It's not a lot. The next time I'll get to see him will be at Army-Navy (since I won't see him at Thanksgiving, Mom and Dad said it was okay if he came over to our hotel after the game and suchwhat).

I promise I'll be chipper and cheery by Thursday! Just as long as I can get a cab out to the airport...

xxxAnnie

Good Enough

The Tarot card reader believes in my future love life.

Barry Schwartz believes we can manufacture happiness (subconsciously, or perhaps, consciously).

I woke up believing a very detailed (& G-rated) dream involving someone who is so not my type, saran-wrap, and bad DVD's.

What does this all mean?

I have no idea, except that I think I'm feeling a little spiritually lost lately. Certainly confused about how to go about getting what I want, and sometimes even confused about what I want.

*cue the "Purpose" song from Avenue Q...

What am I doing with my life?
Other than going to Tarot card readers (which, btw, was free at a festival-thing on St. Mark's Place on Saturday... as was the dumpster-acquired pumpkin pie from the freegans) and semi-stressing about the production of a holiday card?

Jesus. I need, dammit, I don't even know what I need. I need you- and I get you! In just 3 days! Time for a run. And Carrie just called so we could get together tonight.

What do I need? This. This is good enough for me.

(and perhaps a waffle iron. I SO wanted waffles yesterday)

xoxoxoBon

All hail the colors white and blue

Is it really lame that I clap and cheer like it's real life when I watch clips from last year's basketball games?

Is it even lamer if when the senior players did a dance to "I've Had the Time of My Life", the line "I owe it all to you" makes me feel sentimental as a fan?

I know it's definitely not lame to sing along to all the fight songs (even when no one around me is) and to stay till the very very end to sing the Alma Mater (while swaying, of course, arms wrapped around the people to either side of me).


I love Carolina basketball. I love our team, because I think they are all silly and fun and nice and very talented. I love our coach, because he is a classy guy who isn't too old and stodgy to dance to Young Joc with his players. I love our colors, the blue and white, because no other team in the ACC or the NCAA has such pretty hues decorating their stadium (or whatever you call a basketball court), their players and their fans (always classy).

Tonight was the kick-off to the official basketball season. I got a free T-shirt which I exchanged for a schedule poster (it was an ugly, XL Hummer T-shirt, and the poster has Tyler and Danny and Reyshawn on it, so I feel like I got the better end of the deal). I made Nick get excited (he did). I didn't care about the women's team, but I clapped anyways. I watched our boys get silly and I laughed when Tyler wore a hula skirt. And yes, they did play "I've Had the Time of My Life" and it was spectacular.


If I went to a college with a shitty team and a shitty record and shitty colors, I think I'd cry. I'm so glad I can be proud of everything associated with Carolina.

xxxAnnie

Gar R! and Cheese-Haters Unite

This is unbelievable. We are so blacklisting neighbor-man R. Unacceptable.

As you may know, we are having a party tomorrow night. A big, fun one (what other kind of party would we possibly have?) Anyways, months ago, said neighbor obtained a very VERY large stash of condoms. No, your eyes are not deceiving you. By piddling around on the NYC Department of Health website, he found out that schools and some organizations can order free condoms, so he pretended our building was a dorm (Habashy House, how appropriate) to see if they would really send them. And they did. And it was hilarious to see cases of condoms in our hallway. We then decided we would distribute these as party favors at our next shindig, and thus we themed our party simply to correspond with the goods. We of course cleared this idea and the date of the party with R, who was excited also. We then found out he forgot he had to go out of town with crazy Uncle Harvey (who I'm sure will come up in another story v. soon). At any rate, here we are, T-minus 27 hours, and R is nowhere to be found. I finally tricked him by calling him from my office phone, so he wouldn't know it was me (since he wouldn't return any of our phone calls in the past few days) and he was mean about it! He was like, sorry. I have to go. Ah!

So now, here I am at my office on a Friday afternoon, emailing Lauren to see if her brother (who is an RA at The New School) can obtain a large amount of condoms from his health center. And texting Krista to see if she can get them from her grad school. This is so dumb. All because we based our theme on stupid R and his 3,000 stupid goodies.

On another note, I did finally ask hot office guy to the party! And sent him an email with all the details! His dad's in town so I doubt he'll come, but I tried to impart our aura of hospitality towards people of all ages- we have been known to have inter-generational social events. Anyways, it was so easy- I stopped by on my bi-weekly cubicle visit, and he asked me what I was doing this weekend- what a great seguay (segway? what?). As we all know from former office experiences, "what are you doing this weekend" is simply small talk and not neccessarily an indication of any real romantic interesting. Nonetheless, it's a good sign. I'm still holding out for the office holiday party. Don't dash this dream quite yet.

Also, you will love this, are you ready????:
He is a cheese-hating francophile.

This is my destiny, I just know it. Who else, besides the two of us, hates all cheese except moooootzarella? He will only eat the mootz and one version of mac & cheese (we had a very animated discussion about this). I am either getting married or am destined to have my heart broken, and all because I can't find anyone else to hate cheese with.

I have a funny Douglas story. Remind me to tell you (write it) later when my post is not quite so long and ridiculous already.

xoxoxoxoBon

what compels me to go?

Rather than type a lame philosophy summary, I prefer to tap out some inane babble to you. What has happened in the oh-so-exciting life of Susannah? Absolutely nothing, other than the shittiest exam in the world and some sleepless nights.

I'm feeling a little frustrated right now. Life isn't easy.


I cannot cannot wait to come visit you, but the thought keeps occurring to me that even when I do, I can't escape all the crap that awaits me. As soon as I get back from the tiny break I get with you, I get straight to work. And work. And work. This college thing is hard.

So is a lot of other stuff, none of which I feel like burdening you with now. We can have copious long talks over lo mein and Yonnah's in just a week! Okay, I do feel myself getting excited now.


One small request: can we go see Marie Antoinette? Because as much as I can't stand Kirsten Dunst, that movie looks pretty rockin'.

xxxAnnie

Top 6 Reasons I Should Not Drink on Wednesdays (or ever)

oh dear.

why?

1) flirting with Steve last night was going swimmingly for a couple hours until a good dance song came on and he said "rock those boots" and I thought he said "rock those boobs"... which I agreeably proceeded to do. when he pointed out that though either way was fine with him, he really meant the "other pair", I simply put my head in my hands and tried to hide. it didn't work.
2) on the way home from said incident, the rain drenched the city, my clothes, and the subway stairs I was about to fall down. busted-up ankle aside, I am more upset about finding my watch face cracked this morning. shit.
3) I'm sure you have by now already imaged the massive hangover I awoke to. further detail unneccessary.
4) I must be still drunk, because I just invited more than one "former lover" to our party on Saturday. I have yet to invite my (hopefully) "future lover."
5) I also invited Sergio, the dog-clothing designer I met when we were both drunk on the N train last summer.
6) I am wearing a headscarf (very boho of me, thank you) which is not terrible in itself, but no one knows it's really cause my hair is dirty and I was too tired to take a shower this morning.

I do believe 6 mistakes are enough to make you feel better about whatever terrible or not-so-terrible things are happening to you today.

xoxoxoxoBon

Life in Pink

girl, I am so glad you truly enjoyed yourself- you deserve it! must be your day, not mine (and really, I'm not mad you got all the hump day luck) because now:

the sky is grey and rainy
my jeans have stretched out
I have poked office crush two days in a row (as I walk past him in the hall) and still don't have the balls to tell him about my party this weekend
Konstantin sent me yet another email on his mass I'm-sad-free-the-animals-forward-this list
I have ruined our brother's life
I am eating a parfait in misery

eh, maybe not misery- but you know how it goes. we all get too bogged down in the details- which sort of makes sense, if you think about it: what is life, if not the details? what is a book without adjectives? what is a cake without frosting? sometimes, you can make a great cake and still really screw up the frosting recipe. and then you can't eat it, all you're thinking about is the disgusting pink mess that is the outside. what I'm getting at is, sometimes life is a disgusting pink mess... but if you scrape it off you might find something fabulous lurking underneath.

that said, you are perfectly sane simultaneously loving and hating life, since that's pretty much how it's always been with me. except when I just hate it. kidding! and if you think what you really need, and what you really want is to spend a year away from me (sniff, sniff) then- go for it. I'm not gonna lie and say anything's possible- cause it's not (I found that out the hard way when I couldn't take the unpaid internship in the city a couple years ago.. and yet, here I am anyways) BUT if it is economically feasible, I know you're up for it.

though I'll cry like hell at the airport.

xoxoxoxoBon

A l'etranger

So I was just watching L'Auberge Espagnole and truly enjoying myself for the first time in a while. I mean really forgetting things and just letting myself be taken away by the movie (which my film prof said just today would never happen for me again, since I now think of films in analytical terms -- ha!). And I was thinking about how jealous I am that you are always making great posts about how much you love your life, and how you are living the dream, and yay life. And I haven't felt that in a long time.

I know my problem is that I get too bogged down in the details and I forget that I have so much that is indeed wonderful and that my dumb problems are just that -- dumb -- and I should just get my work done and then go out and have fun! Because I won't be a student for too much longer, and who cares if I don't get a cool internship this summer, or the perfect class schedule, or whatever. I am living the dream -- at least, my dream for so long, which has been to get the hell out of our house. And I forgot about it after first semester freshman year. That was silly.

And the movie really just reinforced my desire to go abroad for a whole year. I've been toying with "semester only" for a few weeks, if only to humor Mom (and my basketball obsession), but I really think I need a whole year in Strasbourg to truly...I don't know, grow up and learn shit and find myself and all that hippie crap. I can think of all the negative things that would accompany it (homesickness, no Thanksgiving turkey, lack of American Idol) but even in thinking of those, I still want to go. To paraphrase the Beatles, nothin's gonna change my mind. Jai guru deva om.

xxxAnnie

I'm Thinking Orzo

for just a tiny moment, can we talk about how I make it a point to sleep at least 8 hours a night and still yawn all day long? once I get my crack (aka iced coffee) in the am, all's well for a whole 5 minutes while the first few sips drip deliciously down my throat... but alas, here it is 2 pm and my head's still fuzzy. and I didn't even have a beer at the bookclub (ah yes, the inner geek rears it's be-spectacled head) meeting last night. must be time for lunch...

tonight- the everlasting debate is on: social life or quiet night at home with leftovers and internal fight over what to do with my life? Margaritas or three-day-old orzo? these are questions most normal people don't even need to think about. but then again, when have I ever acted normal? help...

xoxoxoxoBon
ps- Sanford. everyday. or at least one day.

It's done

I ordered the Anne Klein. I mean, what is $85? A paycheck? Not even. And money is made to be spent. And it's not like I'm hurting, since I'm working now. (All the same, don't let me spend the whole day shopping like I did last time I came to visit, kay? One trip to H&M, one trip to Filene's...Then cut me off!)


Le sigh. I feel entirely unmotivated to do anything today. I've already ruled out the gym...I think I'll go back to regularly scheduled workouts after fall break. But for the next week and a half, I'm gunning it towards midterms, papers and the hope of the Sunjinator's return. I don't want to think about anything else.

I probably will anyway.


Also, I am really craving some Michael's. The crap I eat here SUCKS and I need me some of that tasty rice thing. (Can we have brunch at Sanford too?)

xxxAnnie

Opinions needed

http://www.overstock.com/cgi-bin/d2.cgi?PAGE=PROFRAME&PROD_ID=1940290

or

http://www.overstock.com/cgi-bin/d2.cgi?PAGE=PROFRAME&PROD_ID=1945027


Personally, I like the Anne Klein one a lot. I think it's cuter (less boxy) and it has a hood! I don't do hats, so a hood would be ideal. But is it worth twice the price of the other one? This is my question. Please do give me your advice.

xxxAnnie

This Life is More Than ...

I write emails with things like "do you still wanna go to BK for the art thing this Sunday?" and "ok, meet me at the Christopher Street 1 station in the village."

I'm looking at the man in the window across the street wash his hands. I'm listening to Michael Jackson's "Number Ones" album, even though it was really Stevie Wonder's "Season's of Love" from the original Rent that prompted me to write about my love affair with this city.

I don't have AIDs. I've never had a drug problem, been a stripper, a musician, a film-maker, or homeless. I work in an office. I wish I lived on the Lower East Side. And the movie Rent had some unbelievable cheese in it. But, still, this song is like, so... so, here & now. Which is always what I'm trying to get at, being here & now. And here & now, I love New York, and I'm feeling really lucky.

And, I'm going to be on the Today show modeling Halloween costumes!!

See? Anything can happen here. I can't wait for my 15 seconds of fame :)

xoxoxoBon

Better than Excedrin Distress!

There are few things which I can do to cheer myself up better than making CDs. I am on a kick, despite the fact that I have no actual CDs and I'm only making playlists. But they are darn fantastic playlists! And eventually I will get CDs on which to burn them and then send them out to people with wildly magical illustrations on the envelopes and all the world will know that I am officially insane.

As for right now, though, I am battling the crap of the week and the nasty cold rain and the shitty Friday class and the prospect of what lies ahead...So throwing together some Devotchka, David Bowie and Damnwells along with Arkol, Mathieu Mendes and other weird foreign crap is making me feel better. :) (And yes, I know you hate emoticons but sometimes a smiley face says a lot more than I ever can.)

It's hard to believe that in two weeks I'll be kicking back and actually enjoying myself in the city...What's nice about that thought, besides the anticipation of getting to come visit you, is that it means in a week and change, Sunjay will be home. And even if I only get to see him for three days, you know how much I love that.

And just to make me feel even better...



















xxxAnnie

Thursday Moment

It's Thursday. Possibly my favorite day of the week. Thursday's are so close to Friday's you can taste it. Thursday means that if you stay out too late tonight, it hardly matters because the lack of sleep can't screw up your entire week, only Friday, which is the day that everyone wears jeans and sneakers and takes a few extra minutes at lunch anyways. Sometimes people even bring musical instruments to work- oh how I hope that happens tomorrow... Thursday's also mean Grey's Anatomy, ladies' night, and anticipation of the precious weekend. Am I the only one in the world who loves anticipation more than the actual event?

I don't really like offices. Don't tell. It's so sunny outside my window thank god I get a window and I want to be wandering in the cold October and not wishing for lunchtime. Despite this, right now is one of those times I really am feeling quite content. I like my life, I really do. Perhaps even love it. I can never explain, much as I try, what these moments are or where they come from. How can I keep them, hold onto them? The days I walk home past Kabir's and Sun-Wah and all the little Astoria apartments, and think I really am very happy with just this. The nights I stare out my bedroom window at a darkening skyline, and know this is exactly what I've always wanted. How can I make this last? If I could bottle this feeling, I think I might be able to avoid it's counterpart, the days I walk home in the rain without an umbrella & the nights I stare at the ceiling and nothing else, and think nothing at all.

I hope you find this small, random joy I'm sure you do and I hope you find it sometime soon, despite the way things seem to just really really terribly suck right now.

I went to The Strand last night instead of the gym and it was infinitely better. I spent almost $70 on books ahh delicious books that will take me longer to read than the time until my next visit to The Strand (which is exactly what happened this time around, I still haven't read my last $1 bin bargain purchases) but I feel both very literate and very New York when I'm there and it is just grand. Of course I felt both very illiterate and un-New York when I went home to watch One Tree Hill. new guilty pleasure of choice...

Back to work... the moment's passed.

xoxoxoxoBon

Love manifesto

Since I don't have anything positive of my own to say, I'm going to post one of my favorite chapters in all of literature. This is from Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, and I think that, since we are on the subject of love, it has a lot of very good things to say.

The reduction of the universe to the compass of a single being, and the extension of a single being until it reaches God – that is love.

Love is the salute of the angels to the stars.

How sad the heart is when rendered sad by love! How great is the void created by the absence of the being who alone fills the world. How true it is that the beloved becomes God. It is understandable that God would grow jealous if the Father of All Things had not so evidently created all things for the soul, and the soul for love.

It needs no more than a smile, glimpsed beneath a hat of white crepe adorned with lilac, for the soul to be transported into the palace of dreams.

God is behind all things, but all things conceal God. Objects are black and human creatures are opaque. To love a person is to render them transparent.

There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments, when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees.

Separated lovers cheat absence by a thousand fancies which have their own reality. They are prevented from seeing one another and they cannot write; nevertheless they find countless mysterious ways of corresponding, by sending each other the song of birds, the scent of flowers, the laughter of children, the light of the sun, the sighing of the wind and the gleam of the stars – all the beauties of creation. And why should they not? All the works of God are designed to serve love, and love has the power to charge all nature with its messages.

Oh spring, you are a letter which I send her.

The future belongs far more to the heart than to the mind. Love is the one thing that can fill and fulfill eternity. The infinite calls for the inexhaustible.

Love partakes of the soul, being of the same nature. Like the soul, it is the divine spark, incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is the fiery particle that dwells in us, immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine and nothing extinguish. We feel its glow in the marrow of our bones and see its brightness reaching to the depths of Heaven.

Oh love, adoration, the rapture of two spirits which know each other, two hearts which are exchanged, two looks which interpenetrate! You will come to me, will you not, this happiness! To walk together in solitude! Blessed and radiant days! I have sometimes thought that now and then moments may be detached from the lives of angels to enrich the lives of men.

God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love except to make it unending. After a lifetime of love an eternity of love is indeed an increase; but to heighten the intensity, the ineffable happiness that love confers upon the spirit in this world, is an impossibility, even for God. God is the wholeness of Heaven; love is the wholeness of man.

We look up at a star for two reasons, because it shines and because it is impenetrable. But we have at our side a gentler radiance and a greater mystery, that of women.

Each of us, whoever he may be, has his breathing self. Lacking this, or lacking air, we suffocate. And then we die. To die for lack of love is terrible. It is the stifling of the soul.

When love has melted and merged two persons in a sublime and sacred unity, the secret of life has been revealed to them; they are no longer anything but the two aspects of a single destiny, the wings of a single spirit. To love is to soar! On the day when a woman in passing sheds light for you as she goes, you are lost, you are in love. There is only one thing to be done, to fix your thoughts upon her so intently that she is compelled to think of you.

That which love begins can be completed only by God.

True love is plunged in despair or rapture by a lost glove or by a found handkerchief; but it needs eternity for all its devotion and its hopes. It is composed of both the infinitely great and the infinitely small.

If you are stone, be magnetic; if a plant, be sensitive; but if you are human, be love.

<>Nothing satisfies love. We achieve happiness and long for Eden; we gain paradise and long for Heaven.

I say to you who love that all these things are contained in love. You must learn to find them. Love encompasses all Heaven, all contemplation, and, more than Heaven, physical delight.

“Does she still visit the Luxembourg?” … “No, Monsieur”… “It is in this church, is it not, that she attends Mass?” … “She does not come here any more” … “Does she still live in this house?” … “She has moved elsewhere”… “Where has she gone to live?”…”She did not say.”

How grievous not to know the address of one’s soul!

Love has its childishness; other passions have pettiness. Shame on the passions that make us petty; honour to the one that makes us a child!

A strange thing has happened, do you know? I am in darkness. There is a person, who, departing, took away the sun.

Oh, to lie side by side in the same tomb and now and then caress with a finger tip in the shades, that will do for my eternity!

You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love is to live by it.

Love! A dark and starry transfiguration is mingled with that torment. There is ecstasy in the agony.

Oh, the happiness of birds! It is because they have a nest that they have a song.

Love is a heavenly breath of the air of Paradise.

Deep hearts and wise minds accept life as God made it. It is a long trial, an incomprehensible preparation for an unknown destiny. This destiny, his true one, begins for man on the first stair within the tomb. Something appears to him, and he begins to perceive the finality. Take heed of that word, finality. The living see infinity; the finality may be seen only by the dead. In the meantime, love and suffer, hope and meditate. Woe, alas to those who have loved only bodies, forms, appearances! Death will rob them of everything. Try to love souls; you will find them again.

I encountered in the street a penniless young man who was in love. His hat was old and his jacket worn, with holes at the elbows; water soaked through his shoes, but starlight flooded through his soul.

How wonderful it is to be loved, but how much greater to love! The heart becomes heroic through passion; it rejects everything that is not pure and arms itself with nothing that is not noble and great. An unworthy thought can no more take root in it than a nettle on a glacier. The lofty and serene spirit, immune from all base passion and emotion, prevailing over the clouds and shadows of this world, the follies, lies, hatreds, vanities and miseries, dwells in the azure of the sky and feels the deep and subterranean shifts of destiny no more than the mountain-peak feels the earthquake.

If there were no one who loved the sun would cease to shine.

In this same vein, I remembered something. When we were driving home Sunday, the sun shone and it rained heavily at the same time. Stretching over the sky, bigger than any I've ever seen, so long we couldn't see the end for the trees in the way, a perfect arch -- there was a rainbow.

All I could think about was God's covenant to Noah in the Old Testament. I wonder if with every rainbow some covenant is made.


xxxAnnie

What Love Is

I'm sitting in my office, it's not even 10 am, and reading that made me want to cry again. Only this time, it's not about me- it's the kind of sadness that has nothing to do with feeling sorry for myself and everything to do with knowing that others are in pain. I guess this must be what love is.

And I'm guessing (knowing) this is what it is for you, too- love.

And I am so sorry that you are so helpless- because I kind of more than sort of know what that feels like. I really know what that feels like. I'm feeling a little of that now, and I felt a lot of it a couple years ago: coming home in the middle of the night and having everything crash, going to the hospitals, wandering Target because I didn't know where else to go to get away. It hurts.

And it wouldn't hurt quite so bad if it weren't for, well, love. Which, I'm thinking, is kind of both the cure and the disease- and what do you do about that?

We're worried. I can tell you this much- I have never really had to see my family hurting, other than deaths, which obviously cannot be helped. But, I guess neither can this. And all we can really do is fall asleep praying.

Tonight is laundry night, so I'll be around- let's talk and pretend we're not so far away.

xoxoxoxoBon

I love you; I can't touch you anymore

Some hell of a weekend, wasn't it?

Some hell.


I am tired, and hungry but not able to eat, and worried, and scared, and angry, and sad. I'm helpless but all I want to do is help...But I have to sit this one out. I can't do it this time. I'm too tied up.

I'll call you later this week. Right now all I want to do is sleep and not dream.

xxxAnnie