Nostalgia and Music

Recently, I've been reading Musicophilia by Dr. Oliver Sacks, a rare impulse buy that my eye had been on for a while. And much of the stories and studies done about the strange beauty that is music, I can attest too. Now that the holiday season is upon us and my Christmas quickmix on Pandora is set up, nostalgia has set in. Every Christmas, there are two things you can be sure of in our house, good food and a loud family. And yet when I listen to Christmas music, nostalgia hits me; Billie Holiday and Charlie Brown are my weakest links! It is indeed curious how music affects people, and everyone; it is totally universal and open, no boundaries, no limits. The holidays are always a shaken concoction of emotions for me, happy because I'm home, excited to see family and friends, sort of sad not to share it with someone special, disappointed of how we always spend New Years at home with family, but wouldn't have it any other way, and unconsciousness from the food. :)

Harry Connick Jr. has seriously made an impression on me this semester. I had no IDEA he can sing like that! He's way better than Michael Buble and Josh Groban ;) (you know I love 'em all).

Well even though its a month away, its coming up and time is flying by. I'm thinking this year to make everyone homemade dishes but gourmet-style. Nothing store-bought; authentic and good. Ina and Giada will serve as my main inspiration with Nigella as well. I'm just glad there are two days of work then a well-deserved rest. Then, all hell will break loose with every concert/audition/jury/final/blah that will hit you face.

But I am exciting about the caroling, Dickens costumes, the whole thing! and make some money too! Well, all in all, I'm praying for a safe and good holiday season for everyone and that the light of this season will shine through. Hoping all your wishes come true!

For more info on the book, check out the website:

http://www.musicophilia.com/

stray thought

Isn't it strange how things can move?

when bright circle ensnare them and

aromas have fragrant colors

euphemisms disappoint me

just like faux

jut like a lot of other things

shadow breaks pictures

real or caught in time

and red bricks painted white toughen the skin

flowy dresses and cobblestone

with yellow fire hydrants

and lonely people

clamoring thoughts and the shuffle of chess

light and dark mingle

one without the other

long hair, and even longer grass

makes for a long afternoon

dreamy dissonance and french music

makes for paradise lost

swirling endlessly

from nothing

to nothing

existence,

life coffee

good but when it's done

it's done.

green leaves and overcoats

with holes in the pockets

and colorful socks

long after life

slurs will last longer and sighs will be heavier

than before

untitled

When the mind isn't at ease

the heart becomes heavy

and the conscience away

A heaving of the bosom

can no longer pacify the active mind

and therefore you lose yourself

Ignorance seeds poisonous tongues

Disparagement waters them

and yields to suffering

like cloaks, time drums on and

does it heal? does it cast doubts?

words lose their meaning,

emotions no longer feel

and love, well,

can no longer live

not in this world at least

glances, betraying eyes and masked faces

hollow smiles and even more hollow people

their eyes darken their complexion and reveal what they are.

cavernous spaces resound in emptiness

and silence will deafen them

they will no longer speak their shallow clatter

each mirror has two sides,

one of your image and the other, you

you may do with it as you please

signed,

a downcast soul

Friday Nights

College. I believed that it would be the best four years of my life. Best. Four. Years. I thought I would experience things, things that I would reminisce about when I was old and gray or got to a million concerts, meet tons of people have the best times. My expectations are always high, in everything, and therefore I'm familiar with disappointment but why lower my standards when things that I want exist. Do I feel that I deserve them; yeah, I think I do. But that being said I feel like a despot, believing that entitlement is inherent and therefore mine. Circular reasoning. In any case, friday nights, ironically makes me feel like I'm old; no clubs, no parties, no dancing, no fun. really, just hand me some fig newtons and an 8:00 pm curfew. Maybe it's me, maybe it's how I handle situations, or people, or whatever.

Living on my own has been great. I've met wonderful people, made good friends and learned a lot. It's only the second year but life still seems to be sewing and and I'm the needle constantly moving, constantly challenging the fabric of life and and sewing multiple pieces together that sometimes fit and most of the time cause problems. I just hoping that eventually I'll be able to party like a college student, find inspiration on a hike, drive all over town blasting music and laughing, maybe even be in love. finding myself on friday nights like this is disappointing but patience is a virtue and it takes forever.

Racism

Ignorance, hate and racism is rampant in America. In a country where people of all different walks of life, cultures, races, and backgrounds have made a home, it's imperative to be able to embrace everyone. This afternoon, my mom and I went to the mall to have a little girl time and shop. My birthday is nearing and she wanted to get a present for me. There were lots of people at the mall each rushing to and fro to the next shop, for the next sale. We look at the shoes, the dresses, and casual wear. As my mom and I look around, I find something I like and try it on. Mom likes it too and we go to the nearest cash register. There are two people waiting in line as two others people were being helped. The line was out of the way and not wanting to lose my place I stood behind the last lady. The women working the cash registers didn't seem to mind and so life went on. Another lady with her daughter came around and loudly stated how we weren't standing in the right place, pointing out that where she was standing was where the line was supposed to be. So the cashier asked us to move. We did. She asked her daughter to stand out of line to ask for the price and no one said anything. The daughter cut in front of me and asked for the price, the mother liked it and decided to buy it. My mother stated that she cut in front of me and that it was my turn. She, in turn, started ranting about our ignorance regarding a line. Then she went so far as to say, "In YOUR country, YOU yell! I'm not surprised at YOUR ignorance because in YOUR country you don't know anything." Now, the whole line thing did not bother my mom and me half as much as her racist comment. She had no right to assume what our background is and make a judgment of us based on it. She said an extremely racist comment and continued raging at "my supposed country". What she's ignorant of is that I was born in America.

But this raises a different question: who's country is America? Who does America belong to?

Does America belong to her? Does it belong to a certain ethnic group or race?

Answer: EVERYONE! Everyone who comes to America is searching for the "American Dream", for freedom and for prosperity. Everyone is here for the same thing. It is our homeland, no matter what race, what culture, what background we come from.

America suffers from racism; it is this disease of hate and ignorance that sickens America. There are more cultures and races in New York and LA within one square meter than in most places in the world. We are a melting pot of diversity. And we should embrace it!!! We should embrace different cultures, stop the nauseating stereotypes, end the hate and the violence.

If that woman knew who I or mother was, my history, my pain, my life, she would not have been so quick to unleash her venomous tongue.

In the end, I know this experience has made me a stronger person and more aware of the racism that's spilling out of malevolent mouths. I hope that as a reader you will also learn from this experience and rather than harden your hearts with hate at a another person , open them with kindness and honesty. We should communicate our differences and rejoice in our similarities. We should love unconditionally.

signed,

the slightly frustrated wayside wanderer

Ella Enchanted Syndrome

Yesterday, I was flipping through some channels and came upon the beginning of Ella Enchanted. I was obviously excited because I had never seen the beginning or most of the movie before. It's a modern/medieval twist on the Disney classic Cinderella, by Disney. She gets stuck with an evil step-mom and two shallow/base step-sisters who soon realize that she follows everything they demand. And we all know that in the end Ella falls in love with the prince, is vindicated against her step-family and lives happily ever after.

Fondue Cheesy.

What struck me though, before my brother turned to watch the soccer game, is how her curse mirrors my conscious. For example, I related that curse to my driving experience; if I'm driving with my family, mother tells me to change to the right lane, dad yells from the back to stick to the lane and my brother explains loudly why he should have driven. Meanwhile, my heart is racing and I'm driving 65 mph down the freeway in the middle of two lanes ready to burst into tears.

Next example: I'm going out with friends and I decide to wear something I like, I'm practically out the door and again my brother comments on my arm fat, my mother gives me a disdainful look and dad refuses to acknowledge my presence. Then, each of them gives their criticism and I go to my room to follow their instructions. If I had left the house without listening to them, I would never been able to find any amusement but rather self-degradation and a sense of a disobedient ungrateful daughter.

Now this isn't teenage angst or a cry for rebellion, rather a chance for reform. One of my majors is hanging in the balance this year as I'm about to deal with roaring rage and no support, not only from the mr. and mrs. but from my professor(s). I realize that this tendency I have to follow everything everyone asks of me, to sell my soul to things I'm not into just to please or to appease, to lie to myself, to keep going just in case I might need that degree in the future. Fuck! I know my abilities. I don't need anyone to tell me what I can and can't do, who I am and what I'm capable of. I guess I just don't know limits of what I can do or if I should do it. I don't know my limits of investing emotionally into something.

In any case, I have named the problem,

Ella Enchanted Syndrome: (n.) an irrational propensity to follow every order or demand, in order to have a comfortable conscious; emotionally destructive and mentally abusive, ending in a complete withdrawal and wretched state.

ugh.

A Little Independence

So, today I decided to create a blog and publish my thoughts, feelings, opinions, pictures, lyrics etc. It's sort of scary, considering that whatever I publish will be kept forever in some server somewhere in the world, but it'll be alright, I think. Warning: whatever is keeping me as an insomniac will be on this page. Thank you to Blogger, Blogspot, Google, and everyone else behind the scenes for providing this service for people who have silent voices as well as the boisterous ones.

signed,
the wayside wanderer