At least I'm not the only one thinking it

(via The Daily What; by Fauxhawk)

Fa - A Long Long Way To Run

It's possible this has been around too long to be posting now, but who doesn't want to watch a large, civilian-choreagraphed, "impromptu" dance spectacle in the middle of a train station? That's what I thought.

Who came up with working full-time?/I think Italy has the right idea

So, I'm just going to say it. Working kind of sucks, huh? Now, don't jump down my throat - I'm sure you loveeeee your job and you wake up all smiles each morning ready to put in your 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 hours at your computer screen, e-mailing co-workers as if they were as far away as Bali because it is "convenient," and talking yourself out of another trip to the vending machine every other hour (oh, sorry, is that just me?).

But, come on, people. You can't tell me that when you get home each night there's a little twinge of regret when you realize you've spent your entire day doing something that was for you, yes, but on a larger scale not so much for you. And now when you've finally got some "me" time you're exhausted and realize that bedtime is in four hours anyway. Or right now. As you pass out in front of House Hunters on HGTV perhaps from lack of sleep or shock that a HUGE house in middle-of-know-where Texas costs ONLY THAT MUCH??

I digress.

When you graduate (which I did, ahem), it's all people can do to not fall down to their knees and beg you - beggggg you - to stay in school, if not for them at all, but for you. "Don't get a job! Everyday I pray and pray and grovel and pray that the hands of time will turn back and grant me just one more weekend in college!" they say.

I'm hardly exaggerating. I swear in recent months I've encountered more people who were sorry for me that I was graduating than proud or happy or even congratulatory. And at first I didn't get it. Wasn't I supposed to me happy about graduating? Wasn't I supposed to be glad that I've completed what I've been working toward and would perhaps henceforth be PAID for all the hardwork I do? What exactly was I working towards if it wasn't going to be better??

Well, you quickly learn - or at least is the running idea in my head on this almost delirious Tuesday night - that the answer is negatory for most of those questions. Because you get a message like this:



Although, I would think that perhaps working the Dolly Parton 9-to-5 grind each day is less of having a life then having one, the sentiment rings true either way.

I don't want to get into a huge spiel about how college was the end all be all of life and how it will never EVER be good again, because that's all I've (disgruntledly) heard for the last year and I choose to not believe that such negative thinking is true. But, maybe it is true a little bit. I can't go to Barnes & Noble in the middle of the day with friends like I used to basically whenever I pleased. And sure, maybe I always made a ton of work for myself in college, but never again will I look forward to tomorrow knowing that it'll be a slow work day and I'll be able to take a nap or eat a real lunch or attend some cheeky, tackily fun event right at 5:00 p.m. because class ended at 4:30 and - wow!- I was already home. Or, at my dorm, rather.

I suppose I'll get used to this. I'm still a little in shock over the strange turn of events in my life lately that have left me ungrounded in the past, present, and future.

So, I think moving to Italy is in order. Not only because it's magical there (a post for another day - but check out some of my photos here), but because they take an entire month off each year. Like they're in school forever, but still making money the rest of the year! And sure, maybe you can argue that their economy is divided, the country is shrinking, and we over here in powerful America would shudder at the thought of taking a month off each year. Honestly? I think Italy's getting the better deal.

I Think I Have Seasonal Affective Disorder/When Did I Move to Seattle?

When you don't know what else to say, talk about the weather, right? Well then here we are. I don't know if you've noticed, but - at least in the Northeast, or maybe EVERYWHERE because this is a horrible catastrophe - I'm convinced it hasn't stopped raining for more than 24 hours since October.

This is a large problem to me. I look forward summer each year because it is a final, relieving respite to me from all of the dreary, slushy, raw rainy days that seep into my loathing soul throughout the fall, winter, and spring months. That's right - I look forward to days when my school-teaching parents are home every single day with nothing to do, when lawn mowers wake me on Sundays at 7 am, and when mosquitoes feast on my sweet skin while my skin cancer risk goes up several percent with each burn shoulder I get - all because it finally stops raining.

Rain makes me so sad. How is it that something so vital to life and greenery and renewal makes everything feel so dead? Everything just looks so dreary when it rains. You don't want to get out of bed in the morning because it is still dark. And then when you finally do, you have to put on all the lights in the house, even though it's the middle of the day - prime time for natural sunlight. I hate artificial lighting. It's the strangest thing - if I wake up to a sunny day and I can let the light pour in through all of my wide open windows I feel energized and ready to do things. But if it's raining and I have to fight the natural time of day with halogen bulbs, I feel miserable. I'd rather skip the day.

Ugh, and everything is so WET. I know, this is obvious, but there is little worse than getting all ready for work or a dinner out or an afternoon at the gym and then looking outside only to find that you will have to weather a swimming pool of rain and ruined heels to get there. And then look like crap when you've arrived.

So, Rain, my friend (okay so you're not my friend but I'm appealing to your understanding side here), please take a rest at least for the summer. I need the recovery time in order to prep for your never-ending prevalence once October rolls around again. Else, I'm taking my boyfriend (my other lover, Rain) and moving to Arizona where when they can count 25 raindrops on their windshield they've had a helluva bad storm.

So, you still love me right?

I'm a bad blogger. Sigh, I was trying to deny for so long, but it is true. There are 10 days between each of my posts and this space is more vacant than a flea bag motel.

But alas, I will plug on. Because I swear - I swear - I have stuff brewing. New interviews, features, and of course fun stuff about me. You'll have to bear with me this week, though, I've just started my new job (okay, internship) and am re-acclimating myself to a 1 hour commute every day. Still, New York is thrilling me as usual to the point of exhaustion and no words. Which is why it is so blank here.

But you're still there right? Who's out there! You are! (I think.)

More to come - sooner rather than later, I promise.

Out of the Funk ... so I acted like an NYC Tourist

Well, my friends, I've officially been home from college for over a week now, and I think it's time to start pulling myself out of this post-graduate borderline-depression funk. This is a really a positive for you, considering that while many of my collegiate counterparts have started their newly accquired full-time positions (So happy for you guys. Really.), and, well, have not. And will not. Indefinitely. Sigh...

Anyway, to kick off summer my family went into the city this weekend (NYC that is - for future reference, "the city"= NYC always on this blog, or, perhaps if I feel like mocking Whitney Port one day, "The City". Just kidding. Love you, Whitney). We saw 9 to 5 The Musical, which - in all it's Dolly Parton glory - was really great. Perfect for fun, just-need-to-laugh and scratch-that-feminist-itch kind of night.

Also, like a tourist, I took some pictures in Times Square, but don't balk - they're not holding-up peace-signs-in-front-of-the-Virgin-facade touristy.

Recently, they made Times Square a pedestrian mall so now near the tkts kiosk, you can walk where cabs would normally almost run you over. At first, I wrote this idea off. Psh, that'll never work. You can't do somehting radical and change-y as that, Bloomberg! This is crowdeds-sidewalks, no-hugs NYC midtown!

Actually, I loved it. It reminded me of the piazzas in Italy - particuarly the Campo in Siena - where everyone just comes to sit out an enjoy the city. Of course, the Campo doesn't have bustling tourists or old-lady porch chairs (classy, New York, really), so perhaps some improvement is still left to be made.

Wedding photos on that big staircase in the middle of Times Square - kind of poetic really. A brigh spot of pure love in the midst of angst-ridden, sweaty tourists. I'd love to see how the photos actually came out.A trip to the M&M store was imminent, of course. How are great are these "champagne" bottles of M&Ms? And why didn't you buy me one for graduation?