how it feels when we're fighting.

my body is numb, like I can't talk or walk or eat. I'm moving on autopilot. I can't eat, everything will take too much effort to chew. all I want to do is crawl into bed and shut off the light, call it an early night.

day one of internships

day one: cold, lots of worms.

not a lot to write about. more thoughts will come as they percolate, fret not.

caution: this post is about sexual things.

okay, sorry for not posting in a few days! it's funny that not having my computer for a few days made me really miss blogging. I know, I'm a nerd.

so I was looking at the course catalog for sociology at hunter and I really have never seen a conglomeration of things that I'm so interested in on one page. it's amazing. I hope that I stay enrolled as this major or at least minor in sociology just because the theory of it is so interesting. it's funny that dan was saying that he likes street photography and wants to start doing performance pieces because he likes studying people and I was like oh hey that's what I want to do with my life, just not make art out of it. hm.

so I was thinking about how taboo it is to talk about things like masturbation today with sarah gottesman and she said that sex and the city really made sex and masturbation and female body parts a normal thing to talk about -- and I was struck with the reality of that comment. it's just so interesting that one television show really revolutionized an entire generation of women and made their bodies and pleasuring their bodies an available topic of discussion. I don't really watch tv very much but (from what I've seen of) sex and the city establishes a balance between raunch culture (male-inspired behavior) and traditional female behavior and nature.

as I was thinking about it right now, because that balance is pretty hard to establish in one individual, maybe this happened because of the archetypal characters on the show. you have carrie, the one who is struggling to balance her "feminine" emotions along with sleeping with numerous men, samantha who has no feminine emotions and is solely interested in the physicalities of relationships (sad that I have been referred to as samantha in by my friends when we're playing the which-sex-and-the-city-character-are-you game?), charlotte who REALLY embraces her feminine side and rarely (if ever?) has the one-night-stand because she's always looking for a relationship not just good sex.
and then there's miranda who's just annoying and everyone's least favorite character and just likes her career and has a baby. like, what?

so in working on my I-am-woman-hear-me-roar, a la helen reddy, I need to identify myself with a sex in the city character. maybe now that I'm in a relationship I want to disassociate myself with samantha because, apparently (according to sarah gottesman) I DO have emotions. I am not miranda who is just annoying and I am not charlotte because really just wants a husband.

no, I think I'd be more comfortable being carrie, caring about physical relationships but appreciating the emotional aspects of relationships too. and remember that talking about masturbation and sex IS okay for girls too. it shouldn't be weird, it should be something you're comfortable with. I mean I guess even reading this post would be weird for some people considering the content is pretty raunchy, but honestly it's something that you need to be comfortable talking to your girlfriends about. it is allowed, everyone does it (or has someone else do it to them) at one point or another so there's no need in trying to hide it.

the most satisfyingly confusing conclusion ever.

natan, my grade dean and all-around teacher crush (please, he's shomer negiah, married and has 4 kids), said today at the conclusion of seminar to "live your life as if it were an epic." having been a lit major at yu, natan teaches (and has taught) about seeing tanach as epic poetry -- think homer's the iliad and the odyssey. he's obsessed with fantasy genre and all things that fall under its subsets, including dragons, knights, swordfights and destiny.

so today, to close seminar, natan spoke about destiny (in hasidic judaism, b'sheret -- but he didn't really call it that, for the most part he just called it destiny). he said that in a good epic, each character has a destiny. this pretty much falls into my basic philosophy that everything-happens-for-a-reason (that's what I think god, per se, is) but it was interesting to hear natan talk about it nonetheless. anyway, this whole destiny thing is pretty often overlooked (give or take politics & sports) but each character in an epic tale/novel has a destiny -- a role to fill. again, like I think, it doesn't really matter how said character goes about fulfilling this role, rather that he or she meets the end goal and desired outcome.

that being said, natan's basic philosophy was that life should be lived as an epic, meaning that each of us has a role. not self-aggrandizement, but empowerment. we each can affect change, can cause things to happen, can make a difference -- provided we work for it. and that got me to thinking: I may not care so much about israel as a homeland, as something I can really, truly, passionately fight for, I may not care so much about global warming, I may not care so much about the food industry. so I challenged myself to head back to square one. what do I care about? and, how can I create change in that specific sector? how can I be empowered and take action for something I care about?

this year I've spent a lot of time exploring feminism and the empowerment of women. that is something I care about. that is something I want to focus my time on. I think that far too often women are submissive, become caretakers (because we're more "compassionate" and "caring" apparently -- two words I would most certainly not use to describe myself, nor would I expect others to apply them to me), lose sight of their hopes and goals and dreams to satisfy the needs of others. and while some women are happy with this, I refuse to believe that the majority of women are. the fact that I can predict that my (very far in the) future marriage will most likely fail because I know now that I want to be the breadwinner in the family is a sad truth. and why is it that society has to be that way? or that relationships have to be run that way? because it's a societal norm.

well isn't that strange? not really at all considering that we live in a society that has oppressed women, limited rights and refused to see them as full equals for many hundreds of years. (kind of humorous, actually, that communism, that whole "red scare" nonsense gave women more rights than american democracy did...) and now I want to fight back because I care. I don't want a failed marriage (when & if I do get married), I don't want to hear anti-feminist slurs or anti-sexual openness for women. I'm just sick of it. I know that the workplace has been so heavily monitored by the government that women are able to make it in the workplace, but it simply shouldn't be that a woman has to choose between a successful career or a successful marriage.

so how do I live my life as an epic? how do I affect change for women who have to fight societal norms? how do I prove that being the breadwinner, or simply high-powered, and having a successful marriage are not mutually exclusive and can, really, coexist? I need to take action. I need to get my point across. I need to make others see the beauty of this situation, whether a woman is a self-declared feminist or not. it's time that I do my part in making this situation fair because, in the end, it IS a generational issue. I have been taught to be empowered, but to also be a mother. if society is preaching an impossibility than I need to remedy that. and that is me living my life as if it were an epic.

sorry about lack of posting!

hi friends

sorry about not posting in a few days -- just a VERY brief update (nothing to even think about, sorry)

yesterday was the birthday, the big 1-8 (yippidee!) & senior cut day, tomorrow is sarah g's birthday, today was sally rose's birthday.

big night out with the girls on tuesday, lots of fun.

sorry about being back about posting, I've just been sleeping out of the house a lot. I'll come up with some more things tomorrow, lots of thoughts have been percolating.

more about pictures!

I FOUND THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT THAT DAN HID IN MY ROOM LAST WEEKEND. VICTORY.

really though I spent 27 minutes looking for it. I tore my room apart. he told me it would be a hunt. granted, it was only at the bottom of my pajama drawer but considering there are 4 pairs of pajamas I wear and I usually just throw them in my hamper, I guess that's a great place to hide it.

I kinda feel let down now that I found it. I should have waited for him to tell me where it was instead of being sneaky. this is what I get for being impatient.

well, if you're at all wondering what the present was...

backstory: when dan came home for spring break we spent one saturday together -- the entire day -- burgers for lunch at burger joint with 2 of his kivufriends, I returned a pair of jeans to bloomingdales, went to see the skin fruit exhibit at the new museum, walked around the village, he met my dad at dinner and we had a sleepover. great day. anyway, when we were taking the train downtown from the upper east side, dan (who took an analog film photography course this semester and carried around his camera when he came home to take pictures in the city) took a picture of me as an express train was going behind me. he told me that he loved the print when it came out and it went over really well with his photography class. he wouldn't let me see it though. when he came home last weekend (wow, was it really only last weekend?) he said he had forgotten the print at school...

anyway the present was the print with a super nice note written on the back. perfect, much?

proud of myself for winning the scavenger hunt I had with myself...haha. nice.

"a picture is worth a thousand words" has never rung truer.

word up. so I'm sitting at work today on my computer, store's fuckin' dead as shit and I look on my facebook and there are pictures of two people (who will remain nameless) and it's all friendly and suddenly I'm hit with this overwhelming urge to throw up all the delicious naan that coco and I had just eaten. and as I'm thinking about this throughout the day, a few things come into my head:

#1. why do I care about there pictures that were posted in december?
#2. since when have photos become so indicative of relationships or powerfully emotional?
#3. why am I acting like a baby when I usually don't give a fuck?

so now I'm trying to answer those questions.

#1. I care because they tell me something about the nature of a relationship that, even though it existed many months ago and has since ended, is still something that gets to me.
#2. I guess the nature of photography has been to aid in nostalgia, to give you the ability to recall memories more vividly. they're freeze-frames of whatever you want them to see, as far as the camera can see (which is why it's hard sometimes to put emotional depth in a photograph and easy at other times). it's pretty much a snapshot of whatever is going on at the moment, the expressions made, the general feeling in the room -- so naturally they're emotional.
#3. I'm acting like a baby because I care. because those powerful emotions were hurtful ones. I guess that's a new thing because I'm used to being a lot more stoic in my emotions (less easily moved to feelings of vomit and disgust, I suppose). this is just a different side of my personality that hasn't come out in a very long time.

so maybe I'm happy to be a bit of a baby since it shows that I care? but it's totally contradictory to the person that I see myself as and understand myself to be. so I'll just hang out here in emotional limbo for a little bit. nice.

and for some good grooving, check out mc luscious, my classic 90's throwback. word up.

a new phenomanon that's really just a regression

so I recently found out about this silly thing called .formspring that a lot of girls (not boys, of course) are doing. pretty much this is where people will ask you questions (publicly) and you answer them (publicly). essentially, this is high school bullying. no, I wouldn't even take it that far. this is middle school bullying.

I would expect that by the time you get to high school pretty much all of your middle school drama tactics have been cleared up or just taken to the graveyard and buried already. apparently not. seriously if you look at anyone's .formspring it's just a list of questions comprised of these types:
1. mindless "you're hot" questions -- that aren't really questions, just comments.
2. your classic "why are you such a [insert negative attribute and/or curse word here]" questions.
3. silly "you're awesome I love you what would I do without you in my life" questions.
4. absurd "what size are your tits" questions.

really, everything that is written to the person answering questions on a .formspring falls into one of these 3 categories. please, correct me if I'm wrong. I dare you.

this is the quintessential website of high school bullying. you don't need to put down your name, you don't need to make it clear who you are. you are a faceless, nameless person who can ask anything of anyone and make them feel as uncomfortable, attacked, targeted, loved, admired, you name it, and YOU don't have to suffer any consequences. while someone else has the potential to be humiliated in public, you don't have to suffer in any way. where then, does remorse come in? where is the being-a-good-person? where is the maturity that is expected of you once you get to high school?

I was appalled by this website. that such a website would endorse and condone such behavior is absolutely amazing. the internet was supposed to be this incredible technological resource that would help us in our every day lives and all I see it doing, according to this website, is giving people an outlet to say everything they want to say to someone but are too scared to because confrontation is a scary thing. if you can't man up and deal with your problems with someone in person, maybe you aren't ready for high school. maybe you aren't ready to make it in the real world.

and if you're the one spending your time defending yourself on a .formspring? I pity you. I honestly feel sorry for the fact that you will, at one point, be attacked by someone who is too scared to face you. that you have to spend the hours in your day answering questions that are, for all intensive purposes, worthless.

when writing this post I thought about blogging vs. .formspringing and here's the difference. when I blog, I write about my thoughts, my internal crises that I have on a daily basis, the things that really bother me about myself, about the world I live in, about the values that are in society, about the things that I see on a daily basis. that is introspection. that is pushing yourself. I don't spend my time on this blog defending who I am -- if someone had a problem with me, I would expect them to ask me personally -- I spend this time questioning myself and my beliefs and values. if anything, pushing myself outside of my comfort zone and being alright with exposing myself and very intimate thoughts to the general public is a good use of time because I am growing. I am being stronger. I am being my own bully.

I was initially scared when I heard people were reading this. not scared as much as self-conscious. that people would see the things that I criticize about myself instead of covering up all my personally-perceived flaws? it seemed like I was asking for trouble. the fact is, I get to use this space to, if anything, let people see that they should also be questioning themselves and the things they see, to give them a different perspective on things they might not have questioned before. and hey, I'm not always funny, I don't always give music homework, I don't always give shoutouts, I don't always make sense, and I might not always be original but in the end, I'm still pressuring myself, my own self, to think about and call into question who I am. no one else is doing it for me.

so if you're reading this and you do have a .formspring, don't take offense. seriously. I mean it. but think about this: if you have to spend your time defending who you are, are you ever going to question yourself without being self-conscious and worried about it? take your time and figure out who you are -- it's totally okay to be full of contradictions and to be unsure (I AM TOO!) -- but you shouldn't ever have to defend yourself to a faceless bully. that just isn't fair.

a sad realization or a liberation?

I know I say many times that I'm not sympathetic, patient or empathetic and I'm often insensitive, and I accept myself for that, but watching videos on the life of rabbi heschel and listening to really powerful speakers the past couple of days has really got me thinking about being that kind of person. and so I'm at another existential dilemma (thanks, dr. dov).

I've said for a long time that, quoting audrey hepburn, "you have to look at yourself objectively. analyze yourself like an instrument. you have to be absolutely frank with yourself. face your handicaps, don't try to hide them. instead, develop something else." now I guess this is kind of pertinent to the mini-crisis at hand simply because, looking at myself objectively, I have to decide if being calloused is, in fact, a handicap; is it an attribute that I should change?

my experiences would be the reason why I'm calloused. being hurt I guess here led to hurting others. that sounds pretty terrible actually -- very two-wrongs-make-a-right -- but I don't know if that's the case. I became calloused from my experiences and I "learned from them." I also did that thing that I do where I decide what's good for other people and here I decided that it's good to make other people experience this kind of pain. it makes them stronger. it builds character.

honestly I think I'm a pretty good person. I do care about people, I just see myself as a pragmatic optimist -- I want things to be good, I have a positive outlook on like (I'm not terribly cynical, just sarcastic) I just don't think that living in a contrived world is the way to go about things. people need to be honest to find themselves, to be their best person. but is it my responsibility to make them see their flaws? what is my role and when do I cross the line?

so I want to decide what I want to do, who I want to be. going to college is a good time to change. how do I balance the acceptance of my calloused, somewhat brazen personality and attributes (because that is, in the end, who I am and I cannot force myself to be something I am not) and my desire to improve the world. I want to care, I want to do acts of chesed. I just don't know how they fit into my personality.

so, for now, I'll be thinking about such things. oh, and how I want my jewish identity to unfold in the next few years but it's a little late (and this post is a little long) for that right now. new music? check out the new mgmt cd, congratulations. some weird stuff, but some preeeeetty good stuff on there.

is friendship the end of truth?

flashback to montreal, sitting with mom in that same, previously mentioned, grocery store. I started talking about the idea of friendship and listening to people's problems and giving friends advice and I came to this (kind of) sad realization that it's really difficult to tell a friend that they need to shut up and stop whining, or even difficult to just tell a friend that they're wrong. I guess it's kind of a touchy subject when you're listening to someone complain, cry, whine, fill-in-your-pet-peeve-here, etc. and the only advice that you can give them is that they seem totally unwarranted in what they're saying. the thing is, I may be "insensitive and cruel" (translation: calloused, truthful, harsh, somewhat abrasive at times, honest) but I don't know if my recognizing and admitting that makes me worry about being too harsh or if those two attributes are simply byproducts of the fact that I'll usually, for the most part, tell people when they're being stupid. it just seems like the dichotomy of being a good, supportive friend and being truthful is a really difficult one to navigate.

maybe if you're close enough with a friend you can speak your mind without worry, but maybe not. it's still hard to hear when you're being an idiot, regardless of how useful it is sometimes. so, how far do you go before you cross the line? when do you go from friend to enemy? how do you toe that line?

I'm a big believer in honesty. if I'm being an idiot, I want someone to knock some sense into my head. but, it does have to do with tone. tone and the type of person. some people just want to talk and get their problems out there -- they don't want solutions or advice. but as counter-intuitive as it seems some people, the people that probably know the most about what they're doing, are happy to be told they're being dumb. most times we just overcomplicate situations for ourselves, turn them into bigger issues than they really are. getting an honest, outside, completely objective, third party (okay now I'm just copying she's the man.) opinion simplifies everything. they see things for black and white, less of the grayscale that falls in the middle. while this can be a bad thing (you're missing the intricacies of the situation, I tell you!) they can tell you when your boyfriend is being an abusive shit, when your parents are right, when you should back down and when you should pipe up. that's the beauty of the black and white.

my advice? always speak the truth, it's the easiest way to go. not that I haven't told my fair share of the good ol' white lie (believe me I have) but it's always easier to just tell the truth. so what if you're the bitch for a bit? it'll last you in the long run, I promise.

knowledge ain't all it's cracked up to be.

listening to a holocaust program at school today got me thinking about the idea of being naive, that ignorance is bliss. it's funny how we all pump ourselves full of knowledge and then pull the "no news is good news!" card when it's convenient, or it's what we want to hear. how much of the time we're telling ourselves something, when our gut is really saying the exact opposite. the thing is, is there really anything wrong with that? is it bad to play naive sometimes?

I also got to thinking about hatred. I was running a program with my friend, brina, for freshman about the idea of hatred and genocide (obviously two ideas that are inherently connected to the holocaust). we went around the table and asked each person to say what they hated and why and one girl said that she hated change. this seemed pretty weird to me -- to hate change? I questioned her on it (lightly probed, I'm not going to be accused of accosting a freshman) and she said that obviously change is a good thing but the process of creating change is the problem. now, I couldn't say it at the table, but I definitely disagree with that. I actually love the process of change. I think it's fascinating to watch how things change, how people respond to the changes -- the different reactions and everything, the hypocrisy that change brings along sometimes (that is, of course, seen in hindsight). change is one of those things that is NOT on my things-to-hate list.

another girl said that she hated jealousy. I kind of nodded but then asked her if she thought anything good could come out of jealousy, just to push her a little bit. she said no because jealousy comes with negative connotations. someone countered her by saying that jealousy can push someone to be better. it's funny just because I always thought jealousy was a bad thing -- the worst attribute a person can have, actually, until dan told me one day that he wished I were more jealous. well, I've been brought up my whole life to be NOT jealous, to accept things as they are, to be happy for people when they are successful because jealousy is not productive. here's the thing though: it can be productive and useful and very meaningful, actually. according to shakespeare (in othello, I think it was?) jealousy is also a byproduct of love. technically it's a byproduct of hatred, but according to shakespeare (othello -- or macbeth this time?) love and hatred are closely related because without love you cannot have hatred. the fact is, jealousy, hatred even, shows you care about someone, something. it shows you're passionate about something enough to care about it and wish it had affected you in the same way. that's a pretty powerful idea, you know?

I was going to say the double standard and people who hate feminists. being a senior and being that I was leading the discussion, I never got to present my views. we all know why I hate the double standard (it's obsolete, it's stupid, it's sexist, etc., etc.) and why I hate people who hate feminists (oh, especially women who hate feminism, they are the worst because they're just hypocritical. every woman living in the modern century is innately a feminist. most times they just don't realize it because they believe that feminists don't shave, wax or use any other forms of hair removal. untrue.)

other thoughts to come. I still have a good one from canada written down.

legitimacy, what?

in the spirit of palaniuk's choke, I edited my syntax slightly for this post.

my brilliant mother checked the alarm system last night and discovered that the alarm went off at 11pm last night. she asked me if I had really slept at a friend's house last night.
see also: I lied.
see also: loss of trust.
see also: parental hatred of boyfriend.

regardless, this is absurd. the system that my mother has devised (I limit this to the mother because the father has little do to with ruling in the house) provides me with no way to win. I simply cannot ever succeed. now, this is like a very clever choose-your-own-ending that my mother has devised. a nice little labyrinth that has your standard minotaur, cerberus, medusa and cyclops at each end.

option #1: I tell mom that dan, being amazing, surprised me when I got off amtrak at penn station and he is sleeping over. answer: abso-fucking-lutely not. result: minotaur mauling.
option #2: I tell mom that dan surprised me but he slept at home and I slept at jenna's (as planned). answer: "sarah, I wasn't born yesterday." result: cerberus strangling.
option #3: I tell mom that dan surprised me but he has college friends staying with him so I was forced to sleep at jenna's. answer: to be discussed. result: medusa munching.
option #4: I do not tell mom that dan came home at all. answer: I cannot ever go visit dan because apparently he doesn't care about me enough to come to see me so I should not chase him. result: cyclops crushing.

I chose option #3. granted, I only told mom that dan surprised me today, when she crossed the border, but that wasn't a problem. nope, instead she opted to check the alarm system when she got home. granted, had I gone with option #4 the same scenario would have unfolded, but a little differently. open scene:

[enter me, sitting on my bed, on the phone with dan. mom knocks on door and opens it.]
mom: sarah, can you please get off the phone?
me: sure. [simply put the phone down, do not hang up.]
mom: no. get off the phone.
me: [saying goodnight to dan, hang up the phone.] what's up mom?
mom: what's jenna's mom's phone number? I want to make sure that's really where you slept last night. unless it isn't in which case tell me know. [interjection: I should have told mom at that point and I knew earlier that something was up because mom was being weird. she's pretty easy to read. regardless...]
me: jenna's mom wasn't home. they were in florida.
mom: and you slept there last night?
me: [looking away.] yes. ugh.
mom: then why did the alarm go off at 11pm last night? did someone break into our house?
me: nope, I slept at home. [interjection: I am a pushover with my parents.]
mom: and dan slept here too.
me: yep.
mom: I do not want my house to be used.
me: well there's no way for me to win, is there?
mom: I hope you know, we do not trust you anymore.
[exit mom, leave me sitting on my bed, semi-speechless but not amazed.]
(ps all you crazy burgerlers, we have a gnarly alarm system. if I can't break into my house and I know the code, you will certainly not have an easy time breaking in either.)

anyway, it doesn't really matter. losing my parents' trust isn't such a huge deal simply because I'm hardly reliant on them anymore. sure, I get allowance and saturday night pickups, but do I really need those things? nope, they just happen to be luxuries. I don't want to sound old (I know I do, though) but I have a job and I can crash out of the house on saturday nights. and weeknights too. I have a nice network of people who like me enough to house me.

all I'm saying is that there is no way to win in the current system. I was never like david who just one year stopped listening to parents. granted, dad never really cared as much, so maybe that added to it, but david just never really needed to listen. he was selfish enough to request what he wanted, spoiled enough to get what he wanted, lucky enough to not get caught breaking the rules & sheltered enough that, when he did get caught breaking the rules, it never became a major problem. I never behaved like that. I always listened to mom and dad and maybe that's the problem. david established himself as an adult even as a 16 year old living in the house. I, at almost 18, have yet to do that; of course my parents recognize that I have a job and my own bank account and a life, but they don't quite see me as an adult, as someone capable of making her own decisions. I'm still coaxed into going to bed early because I "get cranky if I don't get enough sleep" and no one, not even my parents, should have to deal with me cranky. there should be sunshine out of my ass all the time, you didn't know?

anyway, maybe it's time to cut the cord. sometimes I think that and it scares me but it's an empowering idea. sometimes though, I do think that maybe I'm getting myself into trouble here -- that I'm separating from my family (david, mom, dad). I'm a little bit confused. I can't bring myself to give anything, anyone up, but I can't quite get myself to live by rules that are messed-up, playing in a game that is impossible to win. so, at what point do I give myself legitimacy as an adult (18 in a matter of weeks, hardly) and where does my family fit in that? how do all these things resolve? there just doesn't seem to be an answer that fits.
see also: family divorce.
see also: loneliness.
see also: isolation.

amtrak does not receive an ode.

pretend this was posted yesterday, for when it was intended.

currently sitting at customs, waiting. I officially hate the train home from canada. not that I love the train to begin with, I'm usually better on planes, buses, the like; I find that trains are often over-air-conditioned and not as comfortable as bolt bus. but, upon hearing that amtrak went wireless (something that bolt bus has done forever) in march and being that I needed to be home for work tomorrow, I was alright with dad getting me a ticket home from montreal on saturday. downsides? it's an 11 hour ride. there is not REALLY any internet on amtrak, they lied. I don't know whose internet I'm stealing. my ipod was thefted a few weeks ago so now I'm using my computer as my music player and it's just large and inconvenient for sleeping. I forgot my seasons of curb, californication and the office AND annie hall in the car so I can't even watch television (especially seeing how amtrak lied and made me think I would be okay because of the wonderful netflix account that has proven to be so wonderful to me over the past few weeks). pretty much not singing amtrak's praises right now.

also, this whole customs thing is terrible. it is so much faster when you are in the car. instead they are checking everyone's everything everywhere and I just want to move. really. and it's really beautiful outside (and has been rainy & gray for the past two days) so I just want to skedaddle the hell out of this train and go for a run. or walk. or skip.

last night I hung out with dan's kivufriend, micha who pretty much just showed me a good time in montreal. I mean we just hung out in his dorm room for a while and I met a bunch of his friends who were all really legit people. good dynamic. I didn't realize that you can JUST be in arts at mcgill, not necessarily fuckin' arts & sciences. well that would have been REALLY nice for someone at the information session to tell me (or, you know, the website when you apply? like back in november? that time?). apparently it's really easy to switch out though, so that puts mcgill back into the picture.

although I have realized that the difference between these schools is just the amount of hand-holding you get while being there. at macaulay it's really like we-grab-on-to-your-hand-and-never-let-go which is nice for some things and terrible for others. take for one, the dean of admissions and your adviser go over your "report card" (transcript?) every single semester for every single aspect of your life (grades, social things, internships, jobs, making sure that you're being the perfect candidate for post-college life, that whole "real world" bullshit). uh, that's a whole lot of mommy-and-daddy-ing for me. and then there's mcgill where, according to micha "advising sucks, you go to them and they make you more confused than you came in being" and apparently you just need to get really good at navigating the mcgill website and figuring shit out on your own. and then there is barnard, which is perfect, but I cannot afford to attend that wonderful, wonderful place. so I cannot go there.

so now I have to decide if advising is very, very, super important to me or if someone else hand wrapped around my throat would choke me. there is such thing as too much love. apparently I have found too much love. if only I could pass it on to everyone else. ah, we're leaving customs. only took almost 2 hours. wonderful! for america's well-being, goodbye! (or ¡adios!)

and then there were two.

so mcgill turned out to be pretty much a total bust. no offense to the people who go there, seriously it seems like an awesome place...if you're into the whole winter-for-8-months thing, want to be with 26,999 other undergrads and, oh yeah, know EXACTLY what you want to do. yeah, pretty much not for me. at all. I did buy sweatpants though. I've been craving that college gear (I have almost none and I f'sho don't have sweatpants) so I figured that I might as well pay tribute (and money) to a college that accepted me...and has nice school colors (red & white).

anyway, post-mcgill shindigs, moms & pops & I hung out a little bit in montreal. my dad has this affinity for supermarkets in foreign countries. god forbid he go to the supermarket in new york -- except for fairway, zabars, & stew leonard's. (what a snob.) but he makes a point to visit a supermarket wherever his travels take him. that being said, dad (and whoever else has been dragged along) has/have been to supermarkets in the following countries/states/cities: california (more specifically san francisco, dad's dream city, and he lives for safeway), ecuador, argentina, paris, canada, arizona, new orleans, chicago, florida and barcelona. funny story, mom went to ireland last may and went to a grocery store just to tell dad that she did. dad thinks that you can tell what a certain population is like by what their grocery stores carry. apparently produce tells all, you didn't know? anyway, while dad was browsing the cheese section (he found a cheese with pears, chocolate, and grand marnier in it, got really excited and came running over to me & mom sitting on the side...I told mom it was the whole picnic basket in a block of cheese. she laughed. I thanked her for appreciating my humor.) mom and I came up with a list of reasons why one should never go on vacation with dad.

see below:
#1. a vacation is never a vacation. it is a trip.
#2. a trip is never complete without the not-so-brief excursion to the supermarket. see scenario described above.
#3. lunch is for woosies.
#4. walking 5 miles a day is only average (barely mediocre and hardly commendable).
#5. when the local subway and bus systems are mentioned as potential, faster transportation, prepare to receive the "huff and sigh." oh, and a cab is never an option. ever. (regardless of the -11º weather.)
#6. museums take 3 hours, minimum, because you are forced to read every word of every sign on every plaque on every exhibit on every floor.
#7. don't expect to eat dinner before 11pm. and certainly do not expect to go to the restaurant of choice because it will be closed.
#8. expect a gift shop bonanza.
#9. don't even think about complaining about the above 8 items.

anway, that's all for now about montreal, mom, & dad. time to decide between barnard and macaulay. blah. off to go out and explore the montreal nightlife with dan's friend, micha. major shoutouts to both dan and micha (who, I'm sure, doesn't read the blog) for hooking that up. I am very, very much obliged. again, in the spirit of montreal and quebec, au revoir.

ultimately, untimely french.

totally arrived to montreal t-minus 20 minutes ago. etd: 11am...atd: 3pm. so we started the car ride (I definitely took a picture to document the beginning of the trip) and were cruising along. hit up the country house to drop off some extra stuff post-kitchen-construction.

cruised along, with me stretching out in the back, reading some palahniuk and watching some californication, mom and pops taking turns driving. some highlights from our car trip (before we became cranky):

[enter mom, dad, me in the car. sun is shining. mom is driving. I'm looking in the rearview mirror.]
me
me: ma, look at how well they did my eyebrows.
dad: you see how your mother's eyebrows turned out!? [back story is that mom really overplucked one of her eyebrows as a kid so that's always kinda a point of concern in our clan.]
me: yeah, and see? she still found someone who loves her!
dad: yeah, but you know how poor my eyesight is.
[close scene.]

welcome to my family, friends. shoutout to micha for calling me back, one of dan & david's friends from kivunim (not that david went on kivunim, he's a bum) but dan passed along his number so I'll tell everyone how hanging out tomorrow night goes. apparently the night life at mcgill is crazier than in the city, so maybe that'll be true.

another story.
[enter mom, dad & me, almost to the country house. we're approaching a bridge that crosses over what I think is the hudson river.]
dad: you know what this bridge is called?
mom: uh, no.
dad: the dolly parton bridge. [mom chuckles.]
me: why?
mom: do you know who dolly parton is?
me: uh...uh... [making hand motions in the backseat, unsure how to say boobs.]
mom: she had big boobs.
me: yeah, I was going to say didn't she have a big rack?
[close scene.]

anyway, time for dinner. 11:22, classic roger family time. currently tired & cranky but not hungry. I hate long car rides.

for montreal's sake, au revoir.

the day new yorkers took to the streets.

word up today was the nicest day ever. albeit a little hot but definitely the nicest day ever. too bad this post is going up the morning after I meant to write this. let's just pretend like this was written yesterday night.

being as the great lawn HAS YET to open (whatthefuckisthis?) dani (shoutout to dani who, for the nickname post, calls me saralar. hard a.) and I found a nice comfortable spot on the east side of the park, right by the museum. oh and the beach (I've taken to calling the grassy area by the turtle pond the beach just because it's as close to a beach as I'm going to get in central park) was also closed. go figure. spread out a blanket and just hung out, got us some major vitamin d.

hannah came to meet up, so did victor & jack (shoutouts!). they all kicked out about the same time and jake snider (+1) & ilana came to meet up with me in the park. I couldn't tear myself away from the sun. seriously. anyway, speaking of jake, if you're looking for some new tunes, definitely check this guy out. jake and I have been tight for like, 2 years -- we met 2 summers ago, and shared one of the craziest experience in my life. maybe even his life too. jake sings, plays keyboard & guitar. check it out. also, if you're a native new yorker (or from philly, I don't quite know the right noun to use for a person who lives in philly, in which case you probably already know jake) he's doing a show on april 28th at sullivan hall with jacob jeffries band. they have a pretty similar sound, but jacob jeffries band is a little better known. they're probably not juggling the core curriculum at columbia u. and their music stuff at the same time. oh jake, keep kicking ass.

word up. the rest of the day was spent fooding, lounging and eating ice cream. nothing too exciting, life changing or mind boggling, but hey, that's what senior spring and summer are for, right?

pretty much the best day ever

being as it was definitely 75º today and dan and I got over our last night mini-drama I totally hauled my ass out of my house today and headed downtown to meet up with hannah, zoe, & sophie (rachel met up with us too!).

first we hit up chelsea market, (think throwback to the ferry building in san francisco, ca) this pretty legit open market terminal with different places to eat, pick up food, get ice cream, shop, etc. pretty word. I grabbed an apple (still keeping the passover!) and we headed out to hit up the highline. #1 I might just mention that the elevator to the highline is NEON GREEN on the inside. so fuckin' word. it was really like entering some really small alternate reality that lasted t-minus 10 seconds. anyway for those of you who live in a cave (like me) the highline is this awesome park that opened up downtown (elevator is on 14th & 10th) over the summer. it was designed to turn some old decrepit subway/el train rails into a park, a useable space. so the park is now a long walkway with much sunshine, a kick ass view of the river and great seating arrangements (if you get there early enough). being right over chelsea market doesn't hurt at all, either.

so while we were at the highline zoe told us about a free dr. dog concert at the apple store tonight so we totally hit that up. if you're looking for any new tunes, definitely check out dr. dog, a cute little 5-guy band from philly -- my favorite is the noise maker man, who was wearing matching pants and shits with this funky little plaid pattern, a brown leather vest & a fedora (or some type of hat). pretty much just stood there shakin' his maracas or some instrument to that effect.

post dr. dog a group of us hit up stand burger (yes, no more pesach!) where we gorged on delicious burgers and sweet potato fries (so yum)

headed uptown with rachel and just hung out. mind you all this was done in shorts, a flowy 3/4 length button down and moccasins. does it get any better than that? definitely not. pretty much the most perfect day.

oh hey cruel intentions

I just watched cruel intentions for the first time ever (yes, I know I'm, like, 11 years late on this one) and I realized that I feel kind of like sarah michelle gellar in that movie sometimes. sometimes, really. I don't mean that I'm a crazy life-ruining super-slut bitch but sometimes my sympathy and empathy are way out of whack. I don't think I'm a sadist (I think I was a little bit at some point but I'm pretty sure I'm not anymore, I mean, more than the nest person -- cue avenue q's schadenfreude here) so don't think that I'm really comparing myself to her in the real way of we're-really-quite-similar, it's just that some of the things she does and some of the things she says are very much things I would have done at some point in my being. she's also super hot which I wish I were.

after thinking about it a little bit, I think I like her because she fights the double standard hard. yes, she is a crazy, psychotic, manipulative bitch who ruins people's lives, but she also knows who she is and what she stands for (sex, drugs, rock n' roll) and she accepts herself for who she is. I have to give the girl credit for that. also, she's totally comfortable with her sexuality and the power that it wields which I don't think many people do. especially many girls -- I don't think a lot of girls understand the power of their beauty or their bodies. granted sarah michelle gellar has a crazy sick body in the movie and is a bulimic nut, but she knows how to work her body.

just my thoughts on the movie (DON'T READ THIS IF YOU, LIKE ME, LIVE IN A CAVE & HAVEN'T YET SEEN CRUEL INTENTIONS BUT INTEND TO): obviously it had to end that way, it's cute that sebastian falls in love with annette and she loves him back, I love the end where he realizes that kathryn is just his puppeteer, I love the irony in the movie at that part (because obviously he loves her too, just for fucked up reasons), I love how complicated the movie gets, I love how sebastian and kathryn always look dressed up and victorian while everyone else is 90's-clad, I hate how cheesy sebastian and annette are, I hate cecilia's role and character (even thought I LOVE selma blair), I hate that sebastian never really gets passionate about anything, even when he claims he is passionate about it (but I guess that's half the beauty of his character, that he's so authentic).

anyway, it's really late. check out some MIA and HARDNYC if you're waiting for some groove jams. if not, kick it and get some sleep.

what's in a name?

I've realized that recently people have started calling me nicknames. I guess the usual people fly pretty under the radar but I'm talking about when people like my best friend since I was 4, lili, take to calling me "sar." don't get me wrong I really don't hate it at all, in fact I kinda like it. it sounds weirdly narcissistic (and kinda dirty, too) to be like, "I like it when you say my name" but I like it when people say my name or some variation of it...like, legit.

I have two good friends, hannah and sally, who started calling me "corinne" and/or "corinney" when they found out that my middle name is corinne (hello facebook, thanks) and as much as I was initially opposed to the nickname, it has grown on me a lot. I'm definitely down to be called corinne. and the nickname has caught on a bunch -- a lot more people call me corinne. I don't know if it's supposed to be some joke, like, ha-ha you have such a fuckin' weird middle name (granted hannah's middle name is moselle, so top that parisan flava-flave) but I kinda like it. I like that people don't necessarily get it (unless they facebook stalk me or read the blog).

also I know I'm not alone in saying that I like it when a guy says my name. not in the dirty way (c'mon, reeeeeeally?) but just casually mentioned in conversation. I love it. I don't know, maybe it's that we like getting recognition that somebody knows you and your opinions and isms. maybe we really are all narcissists (it's definitely possible), but maybe it's just that we like being known. it doesn't mean we want everything to be about us, we're not crazy egotists, and seriously if someone said my name every time they said something to me I'd probably go fuckin' crazy but I do like having my name said. guys are usually so forgetful (don't take offense to that, all males that read the blog, I do recognize that was a wide generalization and take full liability!) so when one of them says my name it's like instant credit. yes, I exist. sweet.

speaking of names, check out she & him, zooey deschanel & m. ward totally teamed up to be a kick ass dynamic duo. kinda like batman & robin, another nickname/pseudonym-based tag team. word up.

win some, lose some

I guess this post should be saved for tonight, after I find out from cornell but it'll go up now anyway and maybe just get edited later. currently 4.5 for 6 (rejected from hopkins yesterday, into binghamton the other day). what makes me a little disconcerted (or maybe reassured, I haven't figured it out yet) is that I was so totally unaffected by the decision. maybe it was the decision itself, being told the day before that I wouldn't fit in there, or the scene in which it happened. open scene:

[enter rotem's house, around 7pm. dinner is being made in the kitchen. lots of noise and hebrew. people are shouting, laughing, talking. I'm under the impression that the decision comes back tomorrow (as it says on the website). my phone vibrates. I have 2 e-mail notifications. I open the one from hopkins.]
me: oh. I just rejected from hopkins [laughs]
rotem: what?! you are so brave! how could you check right now?!
me: I don't know, it kind of happened by accident.
rotem: are you okay? I'm sorry baby
me: yeah, I mean I don't know I don't really care [shrugs shoulders & laughs]
navit (rotem's mom): says something in hebrew that I don't understand
rotem: no, my mom says that's the best attitude to have!
[close curtain]

so I don't know what it means that I don't really care about the hopkins decision. I guess it might just be that I had no intention of going there so why bother getting upset, right? I've felt this way about some of the notifications that I've gotten and I've actually cared about some of the notifications -- so that would probably be the best indicator of where I want to go to school, right? with binghamton I really couldn't have cared less. with hopkins, the same thing. mcgill was exciting, but was it because I like it or just that it was the first acceptance? barnard was super exciting. macaulay was also super exciting and reassuring. wesleyan was a surprise just because I expected to get rejected. I expected to get into hopkins so why did I really not care when I was rejected? I must really have not even had any interest in going there, I just liked the major.

so that brings me down to the (almost, perhaps) final 3: mcgill, barnard, macaulay. I'm happy I got into my city schools -- nothing else really matters. waiting for cornell tonight. I think I just want to get in so I can tell david to suck it, that I'm really as smart as he is. and to visit dan. not that I expect to get in. rejection is imminent, I can feel it.

beautiful weather is calling. grab your ipod (unless yours was totally thefted like mine), download some tunes, pack a picnic (kosher for pesach, of course) & hit up central park. that's my plan for the day, at least. oh, and check the cornell decision. damn.