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 - Unhappy Hipsters - First-Person Tetris - People I love, part 1 - The 2009 Feltron Annual Report - You Dropped Food on the Floor. Do You Eat It? - The Celebrated Miscellany of Mr. Simon Collison (Previously: Lists, part 31)  J. D. Salinger, Literary Recluse, Dies at 91 "Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them--if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry." —The Catcher in the Rye "Do you know what I was smiling at? You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion." —Seymour: An Introduction "The connection was so bad, and I couldn't talk at all during most of the call. How terrible it is when you say I love you and the person at the other end shouts back 'What?'" —Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters "You're lucky if you get time to sneeze in this goddam phenomenal world." —Franny and Zooey  (bigger) Growing up, I was told to be two things: strong and independent. A few years ago, I almost planned my life around someone. It wasn't until after the fact I told myself that isn't me and to never do that again. And I began to think, well, never is a strong word. If I were older and circumstances were different (say, if I were engaged or married), would my choice be different? Would I base my life around another person? And then I began think, is there a point when you "stop" pursuing your goals to settle? Or do you somehow keep pursuing them with another person in your life (even if, geographically, it's not where you want to be)? My entire life, the closest people I've known have always (physically) moved away from me. From childhood to middle school to high school to college. I don't know if it's me or if it's just the way of things. Probably the latter, but sometimes I think the universe is trying to tell me something. But it has made me emotionally closed off on that front. Saying goodbye is easy, and I don't honestly miss very many people. I'm numb. And I guess these experiences have tainted my views on things (and probably messed with me because I rarely let people know me). It's just... it's so interesting how when you're younger, these questions are easy to answer. But once you grow older, they become very difficult what with the entanglements of relationships (friends, family or significant others). You choose one path, everyone will tell you you're grown up. You choose the other, everyone will tell you to grow up and stop being a child. At this point in my life, I'm more prone to leave and do what I want to do. And if that's the one selfish thing I do in life, then okay.  I was flipping through the channels over the weekend, looking for something to leave me happy before falling asleep. I found 13 Going on 30 and settled in for some laughs, smiles and a few tears. Gosh, that one part near the end still gets me (you should know I'm a total sucker for romantic comedies--I'm such a cheeseball). Anyway, after the credits started rolling, I began to think about my childhood best friend. (I actually had two best friends when I was in elementary school, but the other I grew closer to after the first moved away.) His name was Colin, and he was my first best friend. He had this curly dirty-blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile I loved. Thinking about him now, three fond memories come to mind. Second grade was our closest year and, I'll always remember the day he walked into class dressed in black. I went to him asked why he was dressed in black, and he held out a newspaper clipping. His dad had died of a massive heart attack. This was my first time dealing with death. I mean, my grandfather passed away when I was about three years old, but I don't remember that at all. So as a seven year old, hearing the words "heart attack" and "dead" were enough to render me speechless--what was I supposed to say? I looked at him, handed back the article, and gave him a hug. He rested his face on my shoulder. I didn't say anything at all. We always sat together at lunch. Remember those long cafeteria tables? With the benches and tables that were connected? Everyone would squeeze in together, trays end-to-end on the tables. There was one day when I couldn't find him, and he raised his hand from this table full of guys. I mean, this table was packed to the brim with guys. I didn't think much of it because I just wanted to sit with my best friend and have a good lunch. So I happily walked over and squeezed myself in next to him. We were deep in conversation when the lunch lady walked over and asked me, "Why are sitting there?" Colin looked up at the lunch lady and said over the noise, "She's my friend!" I remember looking at him briefly and seeing how he stood up for my being there and feeling... happy. After a pause, I joined him and said, "Yeah! I'm his friend!" to the lunch lady. She kind of rolled her eyes and walked away. It was our last lunch before he moved away. We were in fourth grade. During and after third grade, things became a little different. We were growing, and he was hanging out more with the guys and less with me. I started becoming closer with my other friend, Kyle, as well. But we had one last lunch together. We chose the lunch table near the back. It was empty, but we didn't talk much. He rolled up his brown bag and we hit it back and forth on the table, like a hockey puck. I think there was an apple in there. I said I'd miss him, and I wanted to do a spit pact where each person spits in their own hands and then shakes. I can't remember if we actually did. But I remember asking if he'd keep in touch, and he said yes. I haven't heard from him since then. When he moved away, he moved away. I think it was only to another part of town, but to me, that was like across the country. He isn't in the yearbook since he moved before finishing fifth grade. All I have left are these class photos, with that smile that I love. I've tried looking for him, but I know his mother remarried while we were in third grade (I think) and I can't remember the new last name. But I'd like to think that he's doing well, that his life is good, and that he thinks about his childhood days from time to time and thinks of this girl that he knew. My favorite and classiest man on late night television. Be cool, my babies.  Every day, my one hour lunch "break" consists of unpacking my packed lunch, sitting in my cubicle, and eating while working. When it's not so busy, I read the news and check my email or goof off with my co-worker who almost always has something entertaining to show or tell me. But today was different! I met up with my good friend Special-K, who works at Google NYC, and yes kiddos, Amy had lunch at Google today. And I was in awe. The whole time. As she showed me around, I looked everywhere with this child-like wonder, taking in all the details (maps! toys! people in jeans! legos! posters! bright colors!). At one point, Special-K handed me a scooter—she took one as well—and we scootered off. I scootered around in an office. Why can't my job be more like this? There were just so many people, something I'm not used. Where I work, everyone's always busy and hunkered down in their own cubicles, but over there—man! I could feel the good vibes and energy. The cafeteria was packed, and I was admittedly overwhelmed. I managed to get a hold of myself and actually get food. And the food is really good, like what most people have said. My stomach was happy. On my subway ride back to reality, I was in a daze. It was like I escaped into this alternate work world... I want to go there.  You know when you read about films on Wikipedia, and as you read, you realize the plot summary is really everything that happens in the film and by that point you go, "Oh no!" and then you remind yourself never to do that again but yet you do because you think somehow it's going to be different the next time? They should really put up spoiler alerts.  I've been staring at this for quite some time now, and I still don't know how to write this. The cursor blinks at me, and I blink back. What's in my head is a jumble of thoughts, unable to form into anything coherent. They say some things are better left unsaid, but I admit I've handwritten everything down so I could capture how I've been feeling the last two weeks. It has been a blur, both good and bad, happy and sad. And I will tell you, like people who refer back to books and famous quotations to relate, my brain referred back to two particular entries by one my favorite bloggers (and someone I'd like to meet one day!). So, I think these two things reflect my jumbled thoughts. If anything, I've learned that, being there for someone really is important. Even if you have nothing to say. And I also learned that I really am an optimist, in the end. For whatever reason, I have a habit of turning someone's views into something hopeful, just like how I try to find humor in unwanted situations. I think it all goes back to wanting everyone around me to be happy. Not necessarily overall, but at least in the moment. Because we live moment to moment, and how we feel in one determines how we feel in the next. It's like an album and how the arrangement of songs determines how you'll feel about one track as it leads into the next. Anyway, I thought I'd share a very simple cookie recipe I picked up in college because whenever I made them, they made my roommates and friends smile a little more (apologies if you're allergic!): Simple Peanut Butter Cookies 1 cup sugar 1 cup peanut butter 1 egg Reese's Pieces or chocolate chips (optional) Preheat oven to 375°F. Mix everything together in a bowl (add the Reese's or chips last). Use a regular spoon to scoop and roll the dough into whatever sized balls you'd like. Place on a baking sheet. Use a fork to flatten each ball (I do a criss-cross pattern). Bake at 375°F for about 10 minutes (depending on your oven, it could be less). For me, I like to add a generous cup of Reese's Pieces. And yes, this is essentially eating peanut butter and sugar. Which is awesome.  "I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it." -- Jenna, Waitress  My thought process when I buy a purse: "Would Indiana Jones be able to save the day with this slung over his shoulder?" The answer is generally no, but I came across a big yes! the other day so there that is. I really, really do not like purse shopping. I just... none of them appeal to me! Name brands don't do it for me, most of them have some kind of clunky metal involved, and the patterns are not that attractive to me. Am I missing something? I don't know, I guess I'm just a practical girl. I'm drawn to simple and functional bags (and socially conscious, if possible), nothing too flashy. If you think about it, a woman's purse reflects who she is. Right? Next time you're out, look around. It's kind of fascinating. Like how a dog and his/her owner are similar (remember that from 101 Dalmatians?). Anyway, I've recently stopped carrying a purse with mixed results (I stopped carrying one mainly because my purse before literally fell apart). While it's very freeing not having a shoulder occupied or anything to hold, I miss having a place for a book, camera and food for sneaking into movie theaters (you all do this, don't lie). I don't know how guys do it. I guess... it's the big pockets, isn't it? Oh, I love pockets, especially in dresses.  "Sometimes we need to pause our pursuit of happiness... and just be happy."  Here's to the end of one decade and to the beginning of another. Happy new year! |
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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