Friday, March 31, 2006

Interesting...

So, I have had a very interesting, stimulating, educational, informing, fantastic, and loving week.

I am not sure where to begin or end... but from last Thursday to this wonderful Friday morning, so many good things have happened. Now, if I could only make some damn money.

Life is good, sweet, and beautiful.

...count your blessings.

Friday, March 24, 2006

LES plugs

Instead of update the series of recent events, I will provide a list of links that should sum it up. Draw your own conclusions.

I recenly got my hair cut at
http://www.kehaassalon.com/
on Clinton street. Kat did a really great job. I will try to get a picture of my new-do posted soon.

I then picked up bread at Falai
http://www.newyorkmetro.com/listings/restaurant/falai/
$4 gets you a loaf of the rasin-rosemary-wheat bread. It is insanely yummy stuff!

BLUE condo is getting bigger, so are my concerns about what it will do to the 'hood.
www.bluecondonyc.com
http://www.curbed.com/archives/2006/02/16/blue_update_many_edgy_buyers.php

http://www.sonybmg.com
http://www.hartdiamond.com
http://www.southafrica.co.za
http://makenyuaffordable.org
http://www.hunter.cuny.edu
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh

So yes, there is my life in a series of links. Eek!

LES plugs

Instead of update the series of recent events, I will provide a list of links that should sum it up. Draw your own conclusions.

I recenly got my hair cut at
http://www.kehaassalon.com/
on Clinton street. Kat did a really great job. I will try to get a picture of my new-do posted soon.

I then picked up bread at Falai
http://www.newyorkmetro.com/listings/restaurant/falai/
$4 gets you a loaf of the rasin-rosemary-wheat bread. It is insanely yummy stuff!

BLUE condo is getting bigger, so are my concerns about what it will do to the 'hood.
www.bluecondonyc.com
http://www.curbed.com/archives/2006/02/16/blue_update_many_edgy_buyers.php

http://www.sonybmg.com
http://www.hartdiamond.com
http://www.southafrica.co.za
http://makenyuaffordable.org
http://www.hunter.cuny.edu
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh
Brushfire Fairytales
or
Bacon Wrapped Monkey Bars?

Yup- that is what New York feels like sometimes...
Bacon Wrapped Monkey Bars - so slippery you feel like you are going to fall off.

I have had a very nice, nteresting and productive few days, despite NYC being the wallet-Hoover it is.

Cheers to foresight. And prospecting.

Thursday, March 16, 2006




...things are looking up

Monday, March 13, 2006

March 13, 2006
I believe that every move that all of us makes changes the outcome of every life.
This blog posting will have an effect on something. Maybe it will be who reads it, what they think of it, and in return, what they think of me. Maybe someone will read it, disregard me, but take something from what I wrote and apply to other aspects of their life.

I am not sure what I would consider today to be. I am not sure if today is over or not. I am not sure where it will lead me, what will happen, or where I will be tomorrow.

The colors slip right through our hands, leading us to a land beyond the tangible, visual light. So easily can one manifest internal fear about possible outcomes of every situation that really leads to one big inhibitor.

In 5 years I will arrive somewhere. Who I am and where I arrive will depend upon the books I have read and the people I have met. All else will fall in place.
good morning.

or afternoon.

it is gloomy and i am doing laundry, waiting on calls to be returned. not much can happen until that happens. ah, the pendulum.





Tomorrow is my Dad’s birthday.

On Isolation
To feel alone in the most crowded city is one of the most depressing yet liberating experiences for a guy like me. On one hand I feel that I am more of a man for being able to step forward each and every day “alone”. On the other hand, I feel sad and depressed that at the end of the day I have not one particular individual whom I rely and rest upon. I continue to consider myself blessed because I have a gamut of amazing, knowledgeable, loving, caring, and supportive people- some of whom are not at all aware that they support and encourage me in such astonishing ways.

So- the realization that I am supported by a melting pot of individuals can spark a smirk or puzzlement in the eye. Is that to say that I am any more or less than the guy who finds support in ONE facet of life?

Often I wonder, at any given time, how many people are thinking about me. How many heads is “Scott” running through? I ask this out of part selfishness (we all wonder that, get real) and part quest to articulate the spontaneous and rapid stock-ticker of people, events, and things that is perpetually scrolling across a marquee that lies right behind me line of vision. Yes, that is right, all day, everyday, even when I am looking you in the eye there are names, places, and things running through my mind. I really am of the ADD generation. I blame it on too much TV as a kid. I should have been forced to read more.

Maybe I am so isolated because that fucking marquee is keeping me from disclosing the real “me”.

On Foolish Things
Our lives are filled with many noisy and foolish things. Bracelets, extra cell-phones, smaller iPods, drink coasters, key chains, flash-lights… seriously, do we need all of this shit? The answer is no.

A life simplistic is a life pure. A life complex is complicated. A life short can be complicated and one long is often pure.

New Yorker’s love excess. We don’t have suburban homes in gated communities with 3 car garages. We have Prada bags and luxury lofts. Not one person will know you live in the most glamorous apartment (which is really closer to a trailer park in the sky) if you don’t walk in Gucci. But wait, who really gives a serious shit about any of that?

There are the “in-betweens”… the people in suburbia who buy mid-class luxury cars (a pimped out Mazda versus a basic Mercedes, for example), are the people with a really, really good “fake bag guy” below Canal, and a yearning to hold a martini (made with well vodka, not Grey Goose) at a Meatpacking District hot-spot on a Friday night, hoping she will not again be denied access to some trendy over priced, bridge-and-tunnel flooded nightclub where financial yuppies with fake-money dive their faces into 8-Balls of cocaine and pour over priced import vodka down the throats of innocent model-wannabes in a desire to be hot enough to sleep with, but in actually turning themselves into a disgusting beast of addiction and self-loathing.

There are also “made-its”… the people who have a fucking shit-ton of money and don’t need to show it. They wear the Chanel, Gucci, and Prada but opt for logo-less items because, well, they don’t need to flaunt it. They have probably had their money for 2+ generations. Basically, this is the classy class. The real shit.

I also love the yuppies that find it really cool to look poor. These are the Goldman-Sachs guys who live in the Lower East Side, wear Converse sneakers, “old” Diesel jeans, and a western style button down from Foley and Corina (that cost them $150). They so badly want to be “in a band” that rehearses in a basement on Ludlow, but instead, they spent their teens and early 20s slaving away on their education, only to land a job that makes them hate life, so they play poor, eager, and trendy on the weekends, leaving their parents lost in a stupor of confusion of what has happened to their child that “they worked so hard on”.

On South Africa
I am not sure what it is, but I have a deep obsession with South Africa. It may have been Kiefer, a guy I met in San Diego last year, or it may be my desire to go explore opposites. I actually was into that country PRE-KIEFER, but I suppose it sounds more romantic to involve a man. After Kiefer I have met a handful of South African people. I consider them to have the benefits of a European minus any of the stereotypical arrogance or pretension. I think that the respectful, laid-back, warm, and calm lifestyle mixed with the European culture yields a strong and beautiful class of people… diverse and void of many of the pretentious, foul, and discriminating qualities of modern Americans.

It is far too soon to tell, but I am looking into study abroad programs and possible living situations in South Africa. I wonder how much of a reality that is... Riiight.

Included in this post are some pics of cape town and one of new smyrna beach in FL where my bro/dad/and co live now.

On Continuing College
I fucking miss and hate that I am not currently continuing my bachelors. That must be changed this year, damnit.

I do not think F.I.T is for me. I do not want to be a victim of fashion. I believe that I can provide the world with more than a strong attempt to make really good looking good stuff look even good-er when put on good looking super people at super high prices in really good places.

I think I should write. And travel. Or, be a travel writer. Maybe a traveling writer?

Saturday, March 11, 2006

The total written world does not do much, while we sit and wait, dancing on our pretty poignant prances, traipsing through town diligently seeking decadence hidden behind excess intelligence.

The surface scratches and one peeks in, excited by the promises from within. After a few more scratches, surface spared, one takes a few steps back and seeks repair.

The patterns of our life hidden by our outward irregularities awkwardly align us with the person next to us. They will be of use, if only for a reminder of what is to go on.

Discussion of scheduled normalcy seems redundantly obsolete, void, and un-useful. Progressive probes seeking adventured roads lead to beautiful valleys of sunshine and waterfalls… rainbows, bird’s crows, mystic beauty of the ultimate satisfaction that we all crave and slave for.

In the city of vertical stature, I step onto the platform and see only lateral escapes. Up is not an option, only sideways through tubes.

We don’t fall too far from our tree. Sometimes our fruited body rolls up a small hill, down a trail, into and across a body of water… but we are still from that tree.

The tendency to desire to flee is common for the worker bee- perpetually seeking that punctual and melodramatic escape preventing the icing from finishing the cake.

Cough, sniff, or clear your throats that skip your attempt to pull out is void and unreal. Too rehearsed, people know what you are really thinking and hiding behind. It is so evident.

I made an observation. Not a real one, but at least one that can be real. It could be real, right now, without waiting or over-seeking. It is not far from reality:
He, over there, has just been fired from his job.
She, sitting down on that bench, just dreamed of what she would do if she won the lottery.
That little girl feels the first sensation of guilt after telling her first lie.
The mother senses the beginning of the end.

The buss rolls by and on it 1/3 of the people are at least 5 minutes late for where they need be which is actually an average of 5 blocks and two flights of stairs from the stop where they will all get off.
On the corner, two friends meet.

She takes off her sunglasses and squints at the sky.
He talks on a payphone and causes someone to cry.

That little boy over there will never learn to fly, but he will probably make someone cry.

A car drives by with rented wheels to impress a girl in heels. It won’t work, he can’t smile.

The common living room is beautiful, golden, private, and full of disclosure. It can also be filthy and taxed.

The sooner we recognize the power at the tips, and stop trying to compensate for the concept of what is not to come, we will surpass all of our own deficiencies allowing us to greatly surpass others wading in the water fed to the grass.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

What is the purpose of Manhattan? Why do we all want to live here? Is it because it is a condensed copy of the entire world in one tiny over priced island? Even when I walk down the street in the sea of strangers, I feel that I have something in common with each and every one. On the crowded train in the morning- we are all doing the same exact thing- going to work, trying to make a buck, attempting to exist and hopefully succeed in this insane city.

I find that New Yorkers are quite skewed in perspective to the rest of America. Our perceptions of “normal” are unrealistic when you step outside of this island. I am not just speaking of money- but of the size of your sandwich, how much sex you have, what you wear, how often you go out… the whole lifestyle is larger than life.

My little corner of Manhattan is very quiet this time of morning (9:30am). The trees outside my window have no leaves and reveal an awesome sky… I can hear birds and the occasional chatter of someone passing by.

Spending my mornings in the apartment can be good and bad. By it being so relaxed, calm, and quiet, I easily forget that I should be uptown in the midst of the madness. The Lower East Side is my little refuge. Quiet, funky, rough, and trendy…

I think Bush is a coke addict. I honestly believe that he is also an alcoholic. I believe that his care takers and “advisors” (if you can call them that), just give him what he wants… in street or prescription form just to keep him in his little box, doing what he is told. He is so fucked up.

http://mindprod.com/politics/bushismsgay.html

Anyway, enough about that, I am off to study for my NYU Final that I have tonight.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Monday morning.

This coming week should prove interesting. I feel that my plate here in always full and I am never fully able to stand back and assess it.

Monday morning. Always a challenge. I feel that I wake up and can handle getting organized but have trouble planning my day. I can visualize my day, but can’t plan, or rather, make it happen.

I woke up twice today, actually putting my feet on the floor the second time. I stumble into the kitchen of my quiet apartment and make coffee. It is a brand new coffee maker and the idea of rinsing it out or brewing some water the first time around didn’t really occur to me. So I make my usual 4 cups and use my creamer… it tastes funny. Maybe the creamer is expired. Maybe I should have rinsed the coffee maker.

I turn on the Today show and find it so odd that a few subway stops away, these tourists are jumping and screaming at a chance to be viewed by America. I am not sure I could ever do that holding a sign and screaming thing.

I have never been one to scream at famous people. Why? I view them as normal people who have really cool jobs. I do not believe I am jaded, I think I am realistic.

I am very good about returning e-mails on Monday morning. I usually like to start my week with a clear inbox. Today’s replies included messages sent to Dad, Mom, Granny, Bill, a few guys, a few clients.

I need to adjust my perception of “things to do”. Often I fall into an internally self-depreciating and loathing spiral of decadence and defiance to conformity, which yields unproductive behavior. Well, unproductive is a little bold, because I actually do get a lot of things done… I should say “less productive”. Wait, maybe I am too fucking hard on myself.

Why it is hard for me to envision why I should shut the damn iBook, stop typing, and rush to midtown like all of the other corporate monkey?

Instead, I will take my time. I think it is worth it. It is mine and it yeilds productivity in its own quirky way.

Oh, I should fold that laundry... right.