Ex-tasy.

Some exes are like drugs. They are an addiction. One that you can't seem to shake as easily as you thought. We tend to forget to read the directions, the warnings and the known side affects before falling for them.

Description:

Ex-tasy is both a stimulant and a calming "substance." Ex-tasy is also known by its various street names, such as: old flame, heartbreaker, just-a-fling, b*st*rd, hoebag, and @$$hole. This drug comes in various forms: tall, short, blue-eyed, green-eyed, brown-eyed, thin, thick, loving, hurtful, mean, compassionate, dishonest, honest and the list goes on and on.

Ex-tasy is popular among mature teens and adults of all ages. The stimulant effects help a person fall in love with the future ex and ignore all hurt. Ex-tasy is said to boost self-confidence and increase pleasure. Some people experience hallucinations where they feel peacefulness, hope and empathy. Others say that the drug increases a sense of security and belonging.

Side effects:

There are various negative affects of this drug. Ex-tasy has been known to increase dependency and decrease one's happiness when separated from the drug. When used with alcohol, the effects can be more harmful.

Ex-tasy can cause depression, sleep problems, severe anxiety, confusion and disillusionment.

my debate

So here's my debate of the new year.

I've decided that I deserve a gift. A gift from myself to myself. I have thought of two things that I really want.

One: an ipod nano or the regular ipod

Two: a digital camera

The problem is that both are great loves of mine. I love music. I would love to be able to listen to music whenever I want. I have about 2,000 MP3's to upload and it would be great to have them all on a portable device. I'm not sure a nano can handle all of that.

But then, there's photography. I love photography. Part of me loves being able to take film photography and not know exactly how it's going to turn out before I get it back from the store. but part of me thinks that if I really love photography I should have a black room and process my own film. I would love to be able to send pictures online. Then there's no waiting to get them processed and then waiting to receive them from whoever is sending hard copies to you.

And herein lies the other part of this debate. An ipod nano is considerably cheaper than a regular ipod. But an ipod nano may not hold all of my songs. And when it comes to a digital camera, I have expensive taste. I still want all the advantages of being able to control the shutter speed, the aperture and all those other fancy things. So really, my dream digital camera is about $400+.

So the debate really is... do I buy an ipod nano or a cheaper version of my dream camera?

Bone Collector.

Last Friday, I went out to a local bar. It’s a nice place and it’s been voted as the number one place to meet doctors in this growing metropolis. One bartender makes a fabulous cosmopolitan and, on Friday nights, such libations are a mere 3 bucks a pop. By the end of the evening, I’ve had a couple. I was working on my first cosmo after coming from another not-so-hip bar where I had to settle for just vodka and cranberry.

I moseyed over to the dance floor to watch the crowd. The cover band was on break, so the dj was playing hip hop. Within minutes, I was beckoned to leave the periphery and join in the debauchery. I danced with one guy who either loses his rhythm as he drinks or who never had any to begin with. We danced facing each other with some distance between us. About halfway through the song, he encouraged me to turn around and I obliged. After all, I’m one for spontaneity and variety. Then, he grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him and it took me a couple of hip shifts to realize that I was not up against another body. I was up against another bone. A boner. To be precise. I could cut him so slack and say that maybe he had a flashlight or some other cylindrical, hard object in his pocket. But if it was in his pocket, it was in a pocket hanging (or rather, standing) in the very center of his jeans. I made the not-so-obvious dance away and turn around so that I was facing him again. Facing him, I could control the distance. I controlled it and the song ended. I left to dance with someone else immediately.

When the cover band came back on stage, I returned to the bar only to be met by my “upstanding” dance partner. He wanted to get my number and to take me out to dinner. I attempted to lead the conversation elsewhere but he seemed to have a one-track mind. (Imagine that?!) So I had to let him down gently… figuratively speaking, of course. I left the bar sans the dancer.

Moral of the story: Men. I understand that sometimes you get excited by beauty. *uhm uhm* Or by anything else. This happens. I recognize that. Still, I do have to point out that “pointing” that out to a woman on the dance floor does not help your chances of peaking her interest. Do not grind all up on a woman that you do not know when your lower extremities are searching for a higher altitude. It is NOT attractive. It’s not flattering that you can get a hard on while standing next to me. Conversation is attractive. Gorgeousness is also a plus. Start with the basics.

Lesson to learn: Don’t lead with your flashlight.

Football...

Football has never really meant anything to me. Yes, I grew up in the south but my parents never instilled in me a passion for the game. In high school, I went to a few high school football games. But my school's team wasn't that great and I just cheered when everyone else stood up with their hands in the air in the shape of a U. Or better known as a touchdown in the world of football fans. So I grew up knowing that football existed. Knowing that lots of boys prided themselves in their football capabilities (or rather, incapabilities at my high school). But I assumed that was part of their newly found testosterone raging in their systems. They wanted to be manly and strong like most men still do. :) Really, I never found that gut feeling. I never felt the inkling of a desire to cry after another lost game. To me, football was a game. A somewhat silly game with a bunch of men piling on each other and seeming to get nothing achieved.

Then I went to college. I went to college at a small school north of the Mason-Dixen. Our football team was not the cream of the crop. I went to games to support the players that I knew but I found myself in a similar situation. I'd cheer when everyone else cheered but I had no idea what was really happening. Here, I would like to point out that I am not a stupid person. I knew nothing of football because no one had ever told me about it and because I'd never asked to know more. Why? Because I thought the game was silly. Keep up.

But, I guess, my fate was to care just a little bit about this game that keeps bartenders in business throughout the fall. I went to school with this cute boy who must of thought I was pretty cute myself. He swept me off my feet and we dated for a few months. Yes, it fizzled eventually and then I graduated. But I credit him for my initial interest in football. We'll give him a code name.... Ethan derived from Hebrew, meaning "strong." Ethan was one of the most caring people I've ever met and he loved his football. After painfully enduring the first game we watched together, I decided that maybe it was a good idea for me to make use of my football aficionado. And so began my training. Ethan would draw pictures and answer my ignorant questions. After graduation, I still had a lot to learn. I started working in a city with a NFL team. Various individuals continued to cultivate my meager knowledge. Though, still, I did not have that passion for the game.

I dated another person for a short time and he lived and breathed football. If "his" (no actual financial ownership) team lost a game, it ruined the rest of his day. I thought that was a little ridiculous. After all, to me, it was still a silly game. In all games,a someone has to win and someone has to lose. That passion was not something that I could learn nor was I really sure that I wanted to have it. But I think last night was the closest I've come to actually caring about a game. I stayed awake to watch the Rose Bowl. I still have a lot to learn about football but I feel pretty confident that even I can say that it was a pretty electrifying game.


Various UT football players were crying. They have that passion for the game. It is something that drives them. Something that is a part of their lives like writing is a part of mine. They were proud of their success. They'd "edited" and "re-edited" throughout the game and then finally came out with the desired finished product. They were proud.

So hook 'em horns and to all you football lovers, I may learn to appreciate your passion after all. ;)

Chronicles of Narnia... SNL style

Here's a good clip... for some reason, it reminds me of a friend of mine's dancing squirrel video. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch.php?v=zLElfJ9YCh0

enjoy.

Memoirs of a Geisha

If you have not already, I highly recommend reading Memoirs of a Geisha.

I haven't seen the movie yet and I have to admit that I read it only after it got hyped up for the film. It is a fabulous book that gives the kind of hope that I would like to convey in my own stories. Yes, there are hardships, but alas this is life and in the end we will be wherever we are supposed to be. And really, I found it to be an encouraging book. I finished reading it on my flight back home from my visit to NYC over New Year's. Tears filled my eyes. Not a single tear ever fell down my cheek. I let them sit in my eyes until the intensity of the emotion faded away.

I wasn't ready to leave the city to go back to work. I wasn't ready to leave friends. I wasn't ready to leave someone who loves me and who I love. I miss having people who are close to me in closer proximity. I miss the comfort of knowing that they are near. Near enough to hug me when I need a hug and just be there.

bringing in the new year

We all count down the seconds until the new year and then we wish each other a happy new year. but really, what do we mean? do we wish that this year will be happier than last year? Or is it simply a phrase that we say and not think about it. After all, we say happy birthday but with each year we come closer to our death. A large percentage of people spend the hours before the midnight hour drinking. People tend to drink to avoid things. We drink to forget and yet somehow, being inhibited is what we think we have to achieve in order to be celebrating. But I digress.

Here I am. Running into the new year. I have decided to run because it is not something that I can avoid. I cannot return to last year. Nor do I really have any desire to do so. Last year was not overflowing with happiness or anything that I yearn to return to. Yes, there were some great moments. But those moments have passed. So Happy New Year. I look forward to it for the sole reason that it has no option but to be different. Not necessarily happier per se, but different. I look forward to reaching goals. I look forward to exploring new job opportunities. I look forward to new relationships. I look forward to reconfirming old relationships. I hope to recover old friends and gain new ones. I hope for happiness. Those moments that remind you why you get up each morning. Those moments that you cherish for some time to come. I hope for love. Maybe not in my life but atleast in the life of those around me. Love in the lives of all of my engaged friends. But if love finds me, maybe, just maybe I'll recognize it and then maybe I'll acknowledge it.

Cheers to our new goals. Cheers to our dreams. Cheers to our hopes. And I look forward to writing new stories from those experiences. So look out 2006. Here I come.