learning as i go

it's been the kind of day that comedic tragedies are made from.

i decided to ride my bike to the climbing gym this afternoon. as i walked in the gym, my bike half-tangled between my legs as my body propped open the door, everyone turned to stare. and as though the orchestra stopped playing in that instant the door slammed behind me and all i could do was smile and say, "hi". it was as though a 300 lb gorilla had shown up to climb and no one knew what to do but stare. i walked my bike to the racks, walked to the counter and there was still silence. "how you doin'?" my hair was in my face, my shirt was ripped and my bag was hanging to my shoulder for dear life. "i'm okay."

i've heard stories of bike riders in new york - getting hit by taxis or run over by cars, but those are the crazy cyclists. i'm not interested in suiting up, just want to go for a ride on a crisp, october afternoon. no one tells you that getting hit by a car is not a rite of passage, it's simply a reality - you will get hit by a car if you ride your bike in new york. all i have ever heard was, "it's intense". what does that even mean? i rode uphill for countless miles in boulder, colorado - that was intense. new york would be a breeze compared to a summer of cycling boulder.

i recounted this story to my friend. "no one ever tells you what's it's like bike riding in new york", i said. "nope, it's intense." and at those words, i took a sip of beer. son of a bitch.

blow a little breeze on my face.

i was reading the BBC report on Mother Teresa this morning. i'm sipping my morning coffee on the back patio, "it's looking like a beautiful day" is playing from my computer, and the sun is shining on my face - nodding to the crisp air. and i read: "By blood, I am Albanian. By citizenship, an Indian. By faith, I am a Catholic nun. As to my calling, I belong to the world." and thus, i started crying. i have read many books about social welfare, individual rights and sustainability. and i think they are good, for the most part. they are helpful. they have made me a more responsible person. yet at the same time, i cannot forsake the now. i have struggled with this tension for many years, and it's a tension i welcome. i don't want to simply throw money at people that only worsens their condition, but i also don't want to sit on back porches reading and do nothing. i want to make the world a happier place by everything i do, say, don't do or don't say. i don't need to move to india, but i do need to smile at the homeless man who sits next to the uptown winthrop stop more often. i don't need to stop reading books, but i do need to make sure those books propel me to create something beautiful in the world that makes it better after i die. a book, a piece of art, a redeemed social condition...my vonnegut love needs quotation: "create. create something, anything."

i was also thinking about the nobel peace prize. i was shocked that obama received it, yes. but - he's doing something. i think there are a lot of people doing somethings, and he might not be the most deserved, but at some point, who is? - we could always do more. but, in the words of my parents when i brought my report card home: "did you try your hardest?" "yes." "then i'm proud."

i signed a year lease, and it has been keeping me up at night. well, that, and the stress of the thesis. and needing a job. missing family. dreaming of the beach house... i like it here, i love my friends. i like the opportunities, and autumn, and the mountains are close - and the beach. so i'm trying to remember that i'm stressed about school/work, not living here. money really does create and solve problems simultaneously. (sigh).

everything i learned in life i learned from living in new york city

don't buy the $5 umbrella.
don't take yourself serious.

and if you buy the $5 umbrella, you will have a bad day if you take yourself serious.

democracy.

i've been thinking about afghanistan and their upcoming election. my clock is set in their time zone as i quietly contemplate what voting means in a few hours. what it means for a man to quietly wake up in the early hour, kiss his kids goodbye, and set out to vote knowing that he does not know the consequences of such a decision. why he feels voting is important despite his possible death, loss of limbs, torture. i could go on, and i'm sure i will if you know me, but for now... just thinking.

"she has troubling acting normal when she's nervous"

i think there is a good thesis on the sexual frustrations of evangelicals purported through their worship music.

"i get on my knees, i get on my knees. there i am before the love that changes me. see i don't know how but there's power when i'm on my knees."

"All who are thirsty, all who are weak, just come to the fountain, dip your heart in the stream of life. Let the pain and the sorrow be washed away in the waves of His mercy. As the deep cries out to deep we sing: Come Lord Jesus come, Come Lord Jesus come, Come Lord Jesus come, Come Lord Jesus come."