Thursday, March 26, 2009

With a twist.

My mom had the magnificent idea to make Sangria last weekend when I went over to visit. I can't lie to you people, it was pretty great. We took the basic ingredients and put our own twist on it but it was still delicious.

I should have took some home with me in a container, I definitely failed in that sense.

My mom took some pictures of the process, and now I share them with you.



Me vs. a bottle of wine, a very tricky competitor.



I love the fact that Sangria is called "Sangria."
It's not yet time for another Spanish lesson, so look it up folks, a great name.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Spanish For Dummies: Vol 1.

I went to the grocery store after I got back from class, needed some onions and stuff to cook later...

As I went towards one of the lines to check out the chick says to me:
"How you know I'm open?"
-"The boy bagging groceries clued me to it."
(Him) "So what?"
-"Yeah, I guess you could just be chilling there too haha."
"Yeah haha."

Then the kid turns and calls me ugly in Spanish to the girl, who agrees. Then he repeats very, very, very a few times. If he wasn't like 13 years old or so, I might have said something to him, but we'll disregard that for right now.

Now, let's run through a few things here and analyze just how smart you are.

A. Your language is not all that difficult.
B. I'm sure you go to a public school, and any public school in Brooklyn has a language requirement and more than likely it is only Spanish that is offered. If you're lucky you might have Italian as an alternative, but I'm pretty certain you sit in a Spanish class a few times a week as I did in Junior High School and High School.
C. I LIVE IN SUNSET PARK, I am surrounded by Spanish speaking people. If you had no idea that I had any history of speaking Spanish, wouldn't it occur to you that maybe I picked up a little bit being surrounded by people who speak the language? At least enough to understand the phrase "hace feo" or words like "mucho" or even just enough to comprehend the word "feo" as ugly?

Maybe you guys should learn Portuguese or an African dialect or fucking Gaelic so you can prevent yourself from talking about people in the most commonly used language in America.

Eh, in the end it was his loss anyway. I usually tip those kids pretty well, not just my 3 cents that I get back for change, I normally leave a dollar or two and then all of my change, in this case it would have been 2 dollars and 89 cents for bagging two bags of onions and a container of ice tea.

I very well may be ugly or at least in your perspectives, but I can't really tell which one of us is a little smarter than the others.

Friday, March 20, 2009

"Well rounded... right... like a basketball?"

I've been trying really hard lately to think of something that I'm particularly good at, something that I do exceptionally well.

There are a lot of things that I can do pretty well, or at one time used to be able to do pretty well. I can play a lot of sports, I was once the best goalie in my Hockey league, I was a fairly good wide receiver at one point in my life, and I still play Basketball pretty well to this day (I'm no Michael Jordan but I can pass, shoot, and dribble my way around the court). I've been doing graphic design for like eight or nine years now and at one time had a fairly extensive client base, and have had a lot of my work professionally printed (CD covers, fliers, banners, business cards, etc, etc...). My whole life I've done well in school but I've never excelled in one single subject. I write songs, some of which are petty good, unfortunately I don't have any resemblance of a voice to sing them and I dabble in playing the guitar.

There are plenty of other things that I can do, some of which I can do well, but none of these things strike me as a particular talent that I have.

I guess I'm just generally well rounded? *shrugs*

Maybe I shouldn't have ate that blueberry pie...


"Dude, you're really cramping my style."

Ok females, please.

Explain to me how it is possible to have a "camel toe" through your jeans?

Do not even think to tell me that it is uncontrollable or that you don't notice it...

I know you feel it... I KNOW YOU FEEL IT!

Clean your acts up.


Friday, March 6, 2009

Please, and thank you.

I seriously hate Long Island, for many, many reasons.

Anyway, every time I come out here to visit my family I realize just how far people have come from being in a "community" together. New York City is full of people who are so concentrated on their own actions that they walk over homeless people in the street while listening to their iPod, and texting on their Blackberry. There is very little, if any human contact in our society. If you ever go to another country or even another part of the United States you can see a vast difference in the attitudes of people. People are always smiling at each other, greeting each other even if they have no idea who the person in front of them is. This contact forms a society that generally reflects politeness, and consideration for others. For many reasons this is not the society we live in in New York City.

Long Island however is a suburb, it is closer to these communities that I referred to in other parts of the country or outside of this county yet somehow it seems that people have even shittier attitudes, and are more self-centered. I guess it stems from these people making some money and thinking they're better than everyone else because they can afford a house in Long Island and a brand new car. If I can do those magnificent things why would there be a need to show even a little bit of courtesy to anyone?!

Things move slower out here, people aren't rushing to every destination they need to get to. They aren't juggling their job, with their relationship, with the extra college courses they need to take this semester. They aren't worried about the way the trains will run in the morning, if their bus will ever come as they stand at a bus stop in the snow.

People out here are sheltered in their little town. They use the same super market all the time, go to the same book store, attend the same school.

I went to the post office today, and as I come to a complete stop to allow a lady to cross in front of my car, she doesn't even look at me. She just assumes that because she's walking in a straight line with her head held high and her eyes hiding behind her sunglasses that the world is going to stop for her. I clearly did not have to do this for her as she wasn't exactly in the middle of the parking lot when I stopped. I could have very easily zoomed on by and probably shook her up a little bit, but lucky for her I was not raised that way. I hate people like her, I hate people who have that attitude. This lady didn't even acknowledge that I showed her some form of courtesy.

This post office is by the far the fastest moving, most organized post office I've ever used in my life. The employees there are extremely honest, informative (I learned something new today that the guy at my post office must have seemingly forgot to mention to me about "flat rate" packaging, but that is another story for another time), and polite, which is amazing because of how hectic it can get in a post office, especially with asshole customers like I'm about to describe.

Now aside from the fact that I held the door for a couple of people that were carrying large boxes and neither of them said thank you or even gave me a smile or a nod, these next set of events bothered me even more.

This shade wearing, middle aged, Mercedes Benz driving women was on the line in front of me. When she reached the counter she not only gave the employee handling her package an attitude while rushing her to get the job done, she argued with the employee about the size of the package vis-à-vis the price of the shipping. Now realize that it is a scale that calculates the price, it is a piece of technology embedded into the counter top. This women was not hanging her package from a spring scale and mediating the price based on how she was feeling today. None the less this women insisted that "it should not cost so much to ship such a little package!" Clearly she didn't understand the concept of weight versus size. I also had to scratch my head and wonder if she did this when purchasing her Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses, or her fur coat, or her Mercedes Benz. Now this post office employee was not only polite and courteous the entire time she was dealing with this women, she even wished the women a good day on her way out.

What is becoming of this world? Are we all devolving into savages?

Come on people a little good goes a long way.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The world is mine, the world is mine.

I love learning about other cultures. A lot of things interest me, and I have yet to uncover if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but other cultures never cease to fascinate me. Other cultures of the past, other cultures of today, it is irrelevant; I want to know as much as I possibly can. In my book, they are real life fantasies.

Imagine living in a world where carrying a pistol at your side is routine and as you sit on a train you have to worry about a gang of bandits sticking you up. Envision a place where you carried two swords and lived by a code known as "Bushido." Dream up an image of a land covered by sand, your prayers are directed to numerous gods that resemble a hybrid between humans and animals. You are responsible for erecting a pyramid shaped resting place out of two and a half ton stones for a man known as the Pharaoh.

Not to indulge too much in the past, the cultures of today I find just as interesting. I have a professor who is of Egyptian decent, therefore raised speaking Arabic but has since learned numerous other languages. This man is truly brilliant and I regard his class very highly. He presents us with insights to other cultures quite frequently and I find myself writing these bits and pieces of information down, especially if they are a saying native to that culture. These insights amaze me and I enjoy having a perspective outside of my own, American perspective.

Anyway, all of this leads me to the point of this blog. I'm still entirely confused as to what career path I want to follow in life. It would be a dream to me to get paid to study other cultures. Aside from my interest in cultures foreign to me, I want to learn as much as I possibly can so the maggots that eat away at my corpse will have more to share. (Although, I'm definitely getting cremated I had to say that, apologies). I don't exactly want to be a Historian or anything along those lines, but maybe I could use the Political Science degree that I'm working towards and take it to other countries if even not to study other cultures but to submerge myself in as many as possible. It also led to me to think about becoming an Ambassador for the country, which is not only a very well respected job, you are often placed in various different countries. Maybe I should just go to law school and see what my options are from there, maybe things will all come together in the end.

I don't know how many people have seen the movie "Jumper," because it wasn't that great, but being one would solve all of my problems...


Oh, don't act like you didn't know that was coming!

In the blink of an eye.

Tonight I went to the Rangers- Islanders game at Nassau Colosseum which is always cool because more Rangers fans attend the game than Islanders fans so they get "booed" at their own stadium, "ISLANDERS SUCK!"

Anyway, watching the game made me realize something amazing. There are times it feels like time is stopped, no matter how much commotion was going on before this moment it ceases to exist entirely. Anything can happen, you feel a mixture of anxiety, fear, shock, and numerous other emotions that make the situation all but impossible to describe.

Every time a player lined up to take a shot on goal this feeling occurred to me and everyone else in the stadium. Dead silence as the stick makes contact with the puck as it goes rifling through the air like a bullet. In this scenario you will either hear a ruckus comparable to the sound of the moments before Armageddon or a sigh so in sync that you could imagine it being routinely practiced.

These nearly inexpressible lapses in time arise multiple times in our lives , the instant before the first punch in landed in a fist fight, at that exact moment when you feel weightless at the peak of a rattly roller coaster, the seconds leading up to your lips meeting the lips of the person you have been pursuing.

The sands of time waver and for just a single heartbeat it stands on end. These are the moments that make life worth living.