These streets will make you feel brand new...

What is there that I don’t love about New York City? I’ve been on the East coast for going on two years and without fail every time I am in New York City my eyes transform into the same look Little Star Wars boy gets when you offer him a cookie or candy. Inside, my heart does the same kangaroo bounce that he does when he dances or approves of something. I’ve begun the exploration process but I haven’t even scraped the surface.

And everyday I’m there leaves me with a new found love for it and life.

Last week one of my best friends flew out from Arizona so we could “geek” it up and attend a backstreet boy concert. I love that as adults we can now do things like this where we fly out to see a concert or even go to the concert because we (well most of us) pay for it ourselves. When we were younger and the backstreet boys were at the height of their success we could only dream about spending time in NYC and seeing the boys perform. We could only wish we were there, but now, we can and were there. Their show was sold out and granted it wasn’t Madison Square Garden, it may as well have been to us.

Ashley and I arrived in the city around 10 AM to do some exploring before we joined the masses inline for the show. Our first stop was the Museum of Sex, sadly, I’ve lived in NJ almost two years and I’ve been to The Met numerous times and The Museum of Sex twice now.

I think its funny, that of all the amazing and wonderful Museums, this is where I end up. Okay, mostly it’s because someone comes and visits and they almost always want to hit up The Met. I’m not complaining, I love going, but I really should get on the ball and see other museums (MOMA, Natural History, Guggenheim) because I love them.

In any event, the MOS was neat, they had a exhibit called Rubbers: The Life, History and Struggle of the Condom. I have to admit, that WAS actually interesting and grotesque all at once. But again, this is New York, and really, if they don’t have it, it doesn’t exist.

This is an example of what I love about this city; there’s always SOMETHING to do.

~*~*~*~*~

The day I took Ashley to the Airport she wanted to see Washington Square Park since it was the only park in NYC that she hadn’t seen. We drove in. Now I know some of you are thinking that it’s a death wish to drive in NYC, and you’re probably right – But I think my true calling in life is NYC Taxi Cab driver, because really, no matter how psychotic they drive you always make it to your destination in one piece. I drive like I know what I’m doing, even if I’m lost.

When we arrived at Union Square we were met with the Festival of India, like I said, there is ALWAYS something to do. After a few rounds around the block we actually managed to snag some “Rock star parking” a block away from the park. How do I always manage to do this?

We weave our way in between the masses of people wrapped in bright and beautifully jeweled fabrics and as we’re snapping a few photos, I turn to see a boy and girl walking a dog. What makes this exceptionally significant is that as they come to a point and kiss each other before going separate ways, the look on the boys face as he walks away from the girl and her dog is beautiful. It’s this goofy-happy-smirk and I fall in love with his moment. It makes me smile and it gives me hope. Because moments like these are what I live for.

And I remember what I’m fighting for all over again.

A Public Letter to the Ass Holes Next Door

Hey!

Remember that time when you put a cone in front of our houses asking us not to park there. And remember how it said “Be a Good Neighbor” at the end. Because I do.

Remember when you had you bitched about my car being parked in the same spot while I was on vacation in Arizona and then when I came back you parked a third car in front of our house that never moved through the horrible snowy winter we had? Because I do. I remember having to park a few blocks up the street because your third car sat there with its expired tags and out of state licenses plate.

And remember how I was a “good neighbor” not to have that car towed because its illegal to have a car sitting in one spot, and that one sat there for roughly 6 months?

And remember how many times I slipped and fell because I had to walk up the block to get my car after we had a few bad snow storms? Oh right, you couldn’t remember that because you didn’t have that problem since your cars (All of them) parked in front.

Hey, remember that time we renovated our yard and tore up the side of the road and had cones placed in front of it so it made parking less easy for the neighbors? Oh? You don’t remember that because we didn’t do it. It’s you guys that did.

Oh and hey, remember how you parked in front of our house because you wanted to make sure the other person in your house was able to park near your door too and so your car was in the spot that I’ve mostly been parking in for the past 1.5 years I’ve been here?

Remember how you asked us to be good neighbors and we did by not parking in that one spot and not calling the town about your third car (Hey thanks for moving it!) Why do we have to be good neighbors but you can be ass holes? Seems a little bit fucked up don’t you think?

So hey, I guess this is my note where I ask YOU to be a good neighbor and not park your car in front of our house.

It would be really appreciated.

Sincerely,


Your “Good” Neighbor.

If you long to be longed for, if you ache to be craved

The words have failed me so in its place I will communicate what I feel through a select few photographs taken from the J.C Photography Collection and a Ryanhood Quote called "You Used To"

“Used to live alone, used to know how, then you fall in love and you can’t live without. One day it’s over alone with your heart, now why are you where you are? Get used to a feeling, used to a friend, start taking for granted the sight and the scent. One day it’s over alone in your skin how do you begin again?” - Ryanhood You Used To

I cannot seem to operate and you my love are gone...

In the past 24-hours I’ve hit all kinds of emotions. I feel like I’m on a wheel of emotions spinning around. I’ve cried, I’ve shouted, I’ve laughed, I’ve smiled, and I’ve laid lifelessly defeated and let the sadness take over. I’ve tried to keep myself occupied with things as to not let my mind slip into the typical sinkhole.

I don’t want to be the girl that loses her damn mind over a boy. I want to be the girl that just picks up her chin and fights on. But I’m not that girl. I never was that girl, and it’s likely that I wont be that girl now, but damn it if I don’t want to be that girl.

I think in my attempt to be that girl I am hurting myself more because I’m not allowing my emotions to fully cycle themselves out. My sister-in-law told me that being angry will probably not help, but for me, anger subsides quicker than sadness. I am quick to forgive when angry, so if I could move to the anger part, it would make this loss a lot easier to deal with.

In my obvious self-hatred I looked immediately to my faults. What I did wrong, how I could have prevented it. That’s what anyone ever does. We all want to blame ourselves, but I also look at the relationship for the obvious faults that were not just mine, but his as well.

We neglected to look past the most basic parts of our relationship. Where there was supposed to be growth, we allowed ourselves to stay in this limbo. I’m not a relationship veteran, but I know that there has to be growth, goals, changes – we didn’t have those things. We had love, an abundance of it – but in the end, is that all we ever really need? Or realistically do we need more than that? Realistically there are desires and things that need to be fulfilled that love wont do. Compromise will.

Finding equal balance between what each person wants. Realistically, we were both selfish. He wanted it his way and I wanted it my way. No compromise. He wasn’t ready for change and I wanted to keep moving. He was wounded and I wanted him to be healed. I know from my own experience you cannot rush the process in which we heal ourselves. I also know that you cannot heal unless you are ready to confront what hurts you. He was not ready. What we had in love, we also lacked space, and I blame myself for that. I found that I wanted to be with him all the time because of the way he made me feel that I probably suffocated him with my neediness. I don’t think he was used to the idea of someone wanting his attention constantly and I pushed those limits.

I’m hurting the most because I feel worthless. No matter how many people tell me I’m awesome or how great I am and how it’s his loss. My mind keeps reminding me that I’m not good enough to fight for; I’m not the exception, I am the rule. For me this is a common territory for me, this constant struggle to measure up and failing.

When I think that I’m setting the bar too high and perhaps I should lower it, I can’t bring myself to do it because It feels like I’m settling. I want more than that for myself, I fear that if I settle, then I will not live to my potentials and for me, I feel like I can and should be more than I am right now. Call it desire to “stick it to the man” or an obsession with perfection either way, it is what it is.

So I set my bar high, I fail, and I’m saddened by the results. Arguably, I think I’d be worse if I set my expectations too low. And arguably, I think I’d fall into mediocrity.

I [can] be better than that.

So tonight my heart hurts. Tonight my brain is moving too fast and my need for him to be with me is strong. But I desire and need more and maybe he can’t provide that for me, and maybe that’s okay.

Then again, maybe I’ll be the exception and not the rule.

"And if you come around again then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door.."

The Chain

Falling into, falling into, you're falling into history

There was a time when I wouldn’t go anywhere without my camera. There was a time when all I wanted to do was take photos. I lived for it. I was intoxicated by the art of showing people what I saw or finding a unique look at something familiar.

I had always taken pictures on my Fuji Finepix camera and it produced relatively good photos for a point and shoot but I longed for the bulky-National-Geographic-like heft of a dSLR. One day after a rough week at work I decided I wasn’t waiting any longer and made the purchase.

After many months of studying and asking questions and comparing I settled on the Nikon D60 because it was a good basic camera by all accounts. It was great for learning and good enough to take into the first steps of being pro. I was in love with what it would mean for my photography and immediately started using it, except, the photos I took with it were less than amazing. I figured, well I just don’t know how to use it properly, once I took a film class and learn how to properly use an SLR camera my photos would be better.

I took the class. Two of them in fact and I tried changing settings and fixing shutter speeds and apertures, but nothing seemed to be working. The photos came out too blue and I couldn’t figure out how to fix them short of putting the camera on Auto and snapping the picture. This was what I always did with the Fuji, but I had more expectations for the dSLR. I wanted to be a real photographer that was able to create the image with little to no editing but the photos I was producing were less than quality.

So I set down the camera and I’ve seemingly walked away from it. I’ve walked away from photography. I argued that there wasn’t time, I was too busy, but that was hardly the case. I noticed when I did go out and take the camera I didn’t take many pictures. I always felt less than satisfied with the results. And this began to bother me. I wanted to know why I had fallen out of love with the camera and the photographs.

I figured it out when I was talking to a friend of mine. I realized I had taken two photo classes expecting to learn how to use my camera and how to be a better photographer, but instead these two classes have left me feeling like less of a photographer. I learned how to develop, but not enough to really love what I created. When I would get things wrong approach the professor of the class for help I was greeted with hostility and abrasiveness.
All in all, I loved the professor as a person, but as a teacher, he seemly had failed me. I feel like I missed out on a lot of really potentially good information.

What I realized is that had I learned more about how to use the camera and had more successful results than perhaps I wouldn’t have fallen out of touch with my love for the lens. I seem to have put down the camera and walked away from it on the account of not loving the outcome and feeling like I wasn't taking good enough photos. My photos bored me, they didn't inspire me.

When I used the Fuji with my lack of knowledge I could always come away with at least 5 pictures of the 200 that I shot that I adored. This was good enough for me. It seems now, I'm lucky if I get one, this discourages me.

I realize that I seemingly let go when things got bumpy and I want to pick the camera back up and fall back in love with photography because I feel rather empty without it.