Friday, December 31, 2010

[every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end]

Happy New Year! Here's to a lovely 2010 and to an even more fantastic 2011! I'm excited for the coming year, and I am so thankful for the year to whom we are all bidding farewell this evening.

I do plan to write more in the new year. I came home from the warm and cozy cocoon of my family only to work an overnight shift (spent ironing millions of garments and climbing questionably safe scaffolding...always an adventure) and trying to rest up to see some dear friends for New Year's Eve celebratory events...but I have much to write about and other ideas to try!

Thanks again, 2010. You will be missed and remembered :o)

[amanda]

"every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end" - semisonic

[i try to remind myself of this when i get too nostalgic]

Thursday, December 23, 2010

[oh there's no place like home for the holidays...]

So, I have left the rambunctious holiday crowds of New York City for the serene, calm lands of the Midwest. I love being home with my family. While our homes have not been the same throughout my 26 years of life, each home has carried the same essence and feeling of warmth, love, and comfort. I think we have all done a good job at keeping this tranquil familiarity, but the real award would go to my mom, who has the amazing ability to make us feel like we belong in each house, that each one could be a place we've spent our entire lives, one that we will never want to leave, but know that we will be okay if we do because the next one will be just as grand and lovely for different reasons.

When I leave New York to visit the Midwest, I'm always afraid that I'll never want to go back, that I'll want to run to the open arms of my parents and become a child again and live with them forever. While I do wish it would be possible to rewind life and relive favorite times (I am extremely nostalgic and suffer from a severe case of Peter-Pan Syndrome), returning to the Midwest has always been bittersweet - it is wonderful to come back and take a break, but I also realize that I don't belong here right now, that I belong where I am. It's reassuring to feel this way...I think it's the way I'd like to feel, but of course I still over-think these combatting emotions.

One thing that boggles my mind when I am in a car in any area is the realization that there are SO many people in this world, and they serve so many purposes. It's hard for me to put this into words, it may end up sounding stupid, but work with me here. For example, there is this kind of sketchy, old, random small grocery store at the end of the street near my house called Peter's. Now, I would not like to work at Peter's, I don't want to run a store on the corner of 51st Street and College Ave in Southern Milwaukee; however, someone has to. There need to be enough people to staff that little store, and people to shop there, and this is just one of many tiny places like this in the world. Or when I'm driving past a bunch of houses...people live in those houses, they have these whole lives and experiences and I don't even know them, but they are living moment to moment just like I am, and their happiness and sadness is unknown to me, but just as important (or unimportant?) in the grand scheme of the world. I feel this way when I'm driving past a playground, and little children are playing, and they are just at the beginning of their lives, and they have parents and siblings and pets and teachers and classmates that I will never know, and all of these people have their own separate lives...I mean, it is really incredible. And a bit overwhelming. There are around 9 million people living in New York City, and that is just one tiny island and the surrounding boroughs. That is insane! I don't know, maybe I just think about this too much, and I'm realizing that it is difficult for me to put it into words without sounding like I'm stoned or something, haha, but I'm not stoned, I'm completely amazed by this, and I urge you to join me in this awe and wonder.

Anyway. I'm delighted to be home in the company of my indescribably fantastic family. A happy holiday season to all, I am going to go join them in eating cheese and playing card games. Mmmmm I love Christmas time.

[amanda]

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

[do you like it well done cuz i do it well]

i am discovering more ways to experiment with the layout, clearly. probably should have done more of this in the beginning, haha. ah well. with my personality it may even change again. be excited.

so the danger of wearing headphones in the street - not what you'd think. i mean, yes, you may be attacked by a predator because you are not aware of him coming up behind you, so please, watch out for that and don't wear them at night walking home alone. however, the real danger, for me at least, is that i always want to spontaneously dance in the streets. and because i can hear the song, part of me is convinced that it would look really cool if i did some fancy footwork down 5th avenue whilst listening to justin timberlake/timbaland's "carry out," or imogen heap's "tidal," or katy perry's "teenage dream," or the national's "bloodbuzz ohio." by the way, you basically can't put a name or a genre on my taste in music. it doesn't really make any sense, and i like that. i'm pretty sure lots of people are like me in that way. anyway. i do wish that i could do that and not look like a silly fool. i mean, not all the time, just some of the time. there have been moments when my body nearly takes control and the electricity of the beat just gets to me and i really have to concentrate on not dancing as i walk around.

[amanda]


Monday, December 13, 2010

[louder than sirens, louder than bells]

I said yesterday that I have lost my interest in the subway. I realized today that I misspoke. I may not notice the act of riding the subway anymore, but the observations one can make while riding the underground tunnels of this city are endless and never cease to fascinate me. This can carry over into any part of city life as well - coffee shops, book stores, parks, streets...but for now let's just focus on the train. When you're on the subway, that's it. You're there until the next stop, at least. You're underground with a group of people you do not know and did not choose to be with, but here you all are, occupying the same space, breathing the same controlled air, trusting in the system and assuming things will go as planned. Whether you see any of these people again or not, you are currently a part of one another's lives, and anything is possible. I do not mean to romanticize the idea - in all likelihood most people don't give a shit about anyone else and just want to get to their damn stop in time to do whatever they need to do. New Yorkers tend to be a bit of the rushing type. We have places to go and we need to get there quickly because this city moves at a brisk pace and if you can't keep up then you should probably move out of the way. But if you pause to study all of the personalities and activities of the people on the train, you can fill your time observing some flavorful characters.

One thing I find quite interesting is the books people are reading. Have I read it before? Is it a favorite? Have I been wanting to read it? Does it seem lame? Does it seem too difficult or boring? Is it unfamiliar, should I look it up when I go home? Is the person reading it an attractive male? Does he have good taste in books? I'm not going to pretend I don't think about the attractive males reading books on the train more often than the other people reading books. That's just a quality I accept in myself, and I don't think I am alone. I wish that I could plop myself down next to anyone who fits the "cute guy reading a good book" mold and talk to him, but I've not reached that point yet. Yet. I'd like to think I can say "yet" to this possibility. I should tell the tall handsome fellow reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen that I am 359 out of 533 on the wait list at my library to read that book, as I can't afford the hardcover for $23.00 at Strand, and ask him what he thinks about it. Maybe if he likes it, I'll think about adding it to my Christmas list, as I'm sure it will take longer than twelve days to be number one on the wait list. Maybe if we talk about the book, it will lead to other topics, and I will secure myself a little date for the weekend. But most likely I will write about these possibilities in my blog later and that young gentleman will be off living his life and we will never see each other again. I will be no worse for wear, as this is a common occurrence. I do not wish to sound like a lovesick child, but maybe I am, fine. I'm in my mid-twenties. Give me a break.

I started writing a song about this subway-lust-phenomenon. I usually write the chords, the melody, and then the lyrics, and I've run into trouble with this song because I have done the opposite, and while I have some lyrics and the melody, finding the chords with my limited guitar knowledge to fit my slightly higher level of singing knowledge has proven to be difficult. I'll continue to work on it. Hopefully it will be one of my most relatable songs, haha.

I just watched the episode of Felicity: Sophomore Year when Julie and Felicity are fighting and end up being stuck on a train for 80 hours (okay, like 4 hours) and everyone on the train helps them with their little argument over Ben...at the end people are friends and feel a bit more ready to take on life's challenges. It made me wonder what would really happen if a train stopped for a few hours (I'm sure it has happened). Would people talk? Would I be afraid? Would it change my life in some drastic way? Would I make a friend? Would I even care? Or would I just continue to listen to my iPod and read my book and ignore everyone while they all did the same? Part of me would be interested to see...I'm sure a number of people would slit my throat for practically wishing for this to happen, simply so I can analyze the human spirit or whatever. I hope it wouldn't be a dangerous situation, although I don't really have control over any of that. What do you think? Would you enjoy it? Or would you want to bash through the windows and follow the rats to the nearest man-hole exit? I hope you would choose the first option. Because those rats are kind of nasty.

My roommate is annoyed that I'm doing this whilst we are trying to watch The Office, so I think for now I'll stop. I won't bore whomever reads this with constant subway stories, but I'm sure there will be more. Apparently it is quite an interesting topic to me, haha.

And Jim and Pam just had the BEST moment on this past Christmas episode :o) Maybe I can meet someone like Jim Halpert/John Krasinski on the train next. That would be lovely.

[amanda]


Sunday, December 12, 2010

[new york, new york]

It amazes me how all of a sudden New York City becomes normal. Everyday. The usual. I walk into the subway entrance of Grand Central Station to take the train home from work five days a week. I walk past that beautiful building, past the fancy entrance, down the steps and onto the 4 train without so much as an exhale of wonder anymore. Perhaps an occasional scrunch-the-nose of disgust, like when the homeless man who tends to frequent my Downtown/Brooklyn platform, was peeing directly onto said platform. Just whipped it out, peed. Yup. But in some ways, my reaction even followed this feeling of familiarity, because I really didn't give it much thought after, "gross, perhaps i will make extra sure I never set my bags down on the platform," and then I was over it, pulling out my book and waiting to go home. The act of riding the subway has lost its grandeur, although I suppose that was one of the first daily activities to do so. When you ride the subway on an average of four or five times a day, pretty soon you aren't going to feel the thrill any more. However, the subway does occasionally play its part in odd senses of nostalgia. For instance, I was meeting someone in Williamsburg last night, and I had to take the J train to Marcy Ave. When I first moved here, in October of 2008 (over two years ago!) my roommate/best friend and I lived with a married couple in Bushwick, off the J train at Myrtle Ave/Broadway. We only lived there for five months, but those are five months I remember vividly, as they were my first five months in this city. I say I remember them vividly, but they are also easily dismissed and forgotten, because the first five months anywhere cannot compare to the time after the completion of your first year. It is almost an act of survival to set aside those times of cluelessness and fear of the new and unknown. Needless to say, I do not frequent the J train any longer, as I don't have much that takes me into that area of Brooklyn. Most of my activities in Williamsburg allow me to take the L train, or the "Hipster Express," as it is unofficially known. It was as if I was stepping back in time, memories came flooding back, and only because I was riding a particular subway line. I think that perhaps the subway line that takes one to and from her home becomes a bit like her own car. I know where to stand on any platform so that I can get off in the best spot by the stairs I need to come out of the underground and into the air to walk to my apartment. If I ever move away from the 2/3/4/5 area, I will miss those trains and those stops nearly as much as I miss my beloved Honda CRV, the "Lut." You even get used to seeing some of the same people on those trains, especially when you leave for work at 5 in the morning, like I do. The subway is a way of life, I could probably go on about it longer, but I'd like to move on.

I think I decided that I wanted to "move to New York City someday" when I was about nine years old. My mom and I drove down from Connecticut to visit my uncle and his wife, who lived in an amazing apartment in Chelsea. We saw Les Miserables, my favorite musical at the time - the musical that made me decide that I wanted to be an actor, when I first listened to the soundtrack at the age of 5 or 6 - and all I can remember is weeping and being so happy, feeling so complete. There was something inside of me that felt connected to the city, I felt like it was calling to me, somehow. Every time I went back I felt that tug. When I was younger I was convinced that I'd move here by the time I was 18 and ready to go to college, but a visit to St. Olaf during the summer before my junior year in high school changed that I little bit. I felt the same tug of the heart when I was there as I did when I was in New York, so I decided to listen to that feeling. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I'd ignored that tug and applied to East Coast schools instead, but my four years at Olaf were beautiful and full of some of the best memories I have, so I tend to push that worry aside. The last time I visited NYC before moving here was during my Sophomore year in college. It had been a year and a half since my last visit, and I still felt that emotional pull to the harsh and charismatic world of the city. I knew I couldn't ignore it. So, here I am, living here, doing what I always promised myself I would do. Being a New Yorker is nothing like I thought it would be, but I'm to a point now where I can say that it's better than I thought it would be. Not as glamorous, not as perfect, but better. I think it's better because I actually live here. The feeling of normalcy is lovely. Walking to and from the grocery store, carting my laundry down to the public laundry place, frequenting the Brooklyn Public Library, strolling through Prospect Park - those are ways of life.

Even though things have kind of become usual I am still aware of the juxtaposition of my life before and after I moved here. I am aware of the things I can do "just because I feel like it, any time I want." For instance, after work, I can skip up to Central Park and walk around, or read, or people watch. You can walk around, read, and people watch just about anywhere, but somehow attaching these activities to places in New York City makes the nine year old Amanda of the past feel giddy with excitement. The West Village. Soho. Battery Park. 5th Avenue. Union Square. The Upper West Side. The Lower East Side. I am balancing the personality of a New Yorker who doesn't give a shit about being in these places, and the personality of a romantic dreamer who still feels close to tears of happiness and other such emotions when I pause to think about where I am. I tried to lose the latter, for fear of looking like a tourist, for a time, but I have come to realize that I should keep this side of me present at all times. Why the hell should I live here if I'm not constantly in love with this city? And I say "in love" in a realistic way. When you are in love, sometimes that person pisses you off. Sometimes you are a bitch, sometimes that person is inconsiderate. You don't always get what you need or want. You cry, you laugh, you bicker, you yell, you caress...love is complex and beautiful and vile and perplexing. This is what I mean by being in love with New York City. This city will kick you down, it will lift you up, it will make you discover things about yourself and humanity. While living here has toughened me up, it has also reaffirmed my love for the human race and our abilities for greatness. Sometimes I think I'll never leave, and sometimes I dream of other places. Whatever the case, this city has scooped me up and held onto me, and it is where I choose to be right now. I may not have figured out much about my life, but I know that I am not done with this relationship of sorts that I have with NYC.

Hmm. For now that is all I have to say. I promise I will get to "falling in love/lust on the train" sometime soon, as it is an interesting, if not fascinating, topic. More to come.

[amanda]

"you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap, you smashed a plate over my head, and i set fire to our bed...a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none."

- Florence + the Machine, "Kiss with a Fist"

(A bit similar to the loving/abusive relationship one has with New York? Ponder that...)

Saturday, December 4, 2010

somehow, you do feel better knowing you're not alone...

it may not solve the "quarter life crisis," but it is always lovely to hear that i am normal. i think i already knew this, given discussions with most of my friends; however, the article is comforting all the same.


Saturday, November 27, 2010

[all i know all i know is that love will save the day]



we don't look like siblings at all.

[you're the tall kingdom i surround]

my fear was that i would finally start a blog and then i wouldn't remember any of the things i wanted to write about. my other thought is that perhaps i am not good enough at talking about myself to have a blog...lots of blogs seem like places where people just talk about themselves...and i guess talking about the things i think and feel constitutes as this sort of self-glorification, so perhaps we are all capable of putting ourselves at the center of our own worlds. a dear friend once told me that you should always make yourself the main character of your own story, and i do believe she's right...and why not? i mean, if everyone is doing that in his or her own life, you better make yourself the main character in yours, because nobody else will. except for maybe your parents or your lover...but really, making YOU a priority is part of them looking out for themselves, as you are a personal interest, so it's really the same thing.

anyway, i feel lame, because i have thought, "oh my gosh, this crazy thing happened on the train that made me think about this life subject, i should have a blog so i can write about it," and now that i have created a blog, i can never bring myself to write. i have started and discarded a handful of posts already, thinking they sound stupid after writing them. and maybe they were...maybe this one is too. but i think this mostly comes from my embarrassment of sharing my artistic loves with people - writing songs and stories, singing, acting...i love all of these things, and while i have shared these loves for almost my entire life, i never cease to be terrified to do so. i have rarely played the songs i write for anyone but myself, for fear that people will think they are bad. but i really shouldn't be so afraid to share my writing, songs or otherwise, with the world. art is subjective, people like and dislike different things, and you don't have any control of the opinions of others. that could be looked at as a negative aspect of life; however, i am going to try to start looking at it as a positive aspect instead. if i can't control it, then i can put it out of my mind. now i make that sound much more simple than it will be, and anyone who knows me can agree that this is a battle that i have long been fighting. i am sure, though, that i am not the only one.

the other thing is, i doubt anyone is reading this at this point, so i can take this blog as a rehearsal for the time being :o)

currently reading: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. so far, as interesting as it has promised to be.

next topic: falling in love multiple times on the train every day. it does happen. perhaps falling in lust is a better description.

[amanda]

"you're the tall kingdom i surround." - the national

Friday, November 19, 2010

[so i stayed in the darkness with you]

My head is always full. Full of thoughts, questions, worries, fantasies...I don't think I've ever experienced "boredom." I live in a city alive with objects and beings begging to be observed and appreciated. I live in a world where, despite the fact that everything seems to change and grow every moment of every day, the basic needs and desires of humanity remain the same. I could just keep everything that runs through my brain to myself, or I could write it all down in an endless piles of journals, as I've done for the last many years of my life; however, I think I am one of the many who feels isolated in my own madness, afraid to be discovered for the crazy person I might actually be...when in truth, we are all full of perpetual wonder and curiosity for this unexplainable planet we occupy. Hence, starting a blog. Let's see how that goes.

So. To begin. Well, where to begin is really the question. I think I'll make a list of topics to cover and get back to this.

[amanda]

"so i stayed in the darkness with you" - florence + the machine (current music obsession)