Guitars, dogs, bikes, skirts, and smiles in the sun

I wore a skirt yesterday.  I shaved my legs, moisturized them, put on some cute shoes, and wore a skirt.  Because it was lovely out.  And the lovely weather draws people outside and it revitalizes this city in the most amazing way.  Although the streets get more crowded and walking is more difficult and my pace is broken more often, I can't help but love what sunshine does to this city.

I saw three times as many dogs outside yesterday, lying on the street outside cafes while owners casually sipped iced coffees.  I saw a man sitting on his front steps just jamming on a guitar and singing his heart out with whatever lyrics he conjured on the spot.  I saw a boy reading a book, sitting on the side of the street under the shade of a tree.  I saw artists sketching I saw children with facepaint and people with bunches of balloons, tons of joggers and loads of bikers whizzing down the streets.  With some good music on, I wanted my walk to last for hours.

I didn't wear a jacket.  I could feel the sunshine.  I walked along the Hudson.  I went for a drive with the windows down, and it felt wonderful.  I turned off my air conditioning and left my room windows open, sleeping under the breeze.

I don't have much to say about the weather, just that it was lovely and I smiled all day.

I. Love. Sunshine.  (taken from http://www.flickr.com/photos/virgomerry/11227682/) 

Get outside,
The A.S.S.

Hot Chocolate Streets

My last post was about how lovely Thanksgiving is--what a nice, pleasant, gracious, inflective, personal holiday it is.  This post, unfortunately, will be about how terrible Christmas is.  SORRY IN ADVANCE, hate me all you want, but Christmas makes me feel down right despicable.

A Sign I Couldn't Let Slide

I'm a big believer in signs.  I feel that when something pops out at you and catches your eye because of something on your mind, that wasn't there coincidentally.  Especially when it happens time after time after time and again.  And there have been plenty of signs over the past few weeks that keep pointing me to Drifter, but this one was pretty blatant.

It was two nights ago and I was taking a walk down a street I'd never been on before.  I had just left my place and had contemplated writing that last post over and over.  I wanted to get it out, put it down somewhere, and of course, stay true to my mission statement.  But I didn't want to curse myself, jinx anything, or just generally be too pathetic in a public sphere.  So I took a walk to listen to some music, see some New York, and gather my thoughts.

As I strolled, my mind was just flooded with Drifter.  How everything seems to be pointing towards something more, but I could just be horrendously misinterpreting it all and forcing myself into an unnecessary emotional roller coaster.  How he and are I surprisingly perfect for each other and more compatible than anyone else I've ever had an interest in, but is that just my gut and heart trying to convince my mind?  What on earth are his intentions?  Does he understand what my intentions are?  Am I being too aggressive and pressuring too much? Oy, my mind was just reeling.

I came across a bit of construction and the thinly walled wooden border had been doused with graffiti.  I love graffiti, so I made sure to take note of as much as I could as I passed by.  Walking down, there was so much to see, so much overlapping and so many pieces competing for their space to be noticed.  But there was one spot where no one was competing--there was one sentence in an open space, completely unobstructed by anything else.  As if everyone else had decided to respect it.  As if it was a supreme word.  It simply read:

"Write about love."

And my Lord, I was struck down to my bones.  I had been thinking of Drifter all day, but I didn't want to call it love (I still don't), and I didn't want to jinx the magic I was (and am) feeling.  Yet here it was, staring me in the face.  "Write about love."  I couldn't help the feeling that the universe had brought me here to see that, that this wasn't a coincidence.  So I went home, thought some more, got a good night's sleep, and woke up with a crystallized story to tell.  And that's why you see yesterday's post--because I couldn't let that sign slide.

Taken from http://bvswimmer33.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2v0cjm

Writing about love because

"I may already love you,"

The A.S.S.

Rainbows Over Manhattan?!

Class today was great--we really bit our teeth in and dug into class.  We had a very intense and in-depth discussion of the material, scrutinizing and thirsting and analyzing and craving.  It was really pretty awesome, I can't lie.  So I left with a skip in my step and a smile on my face.

It was raining, but I had a raincoat and umbrella ready.  It was a calm but heavy rain; powerful yet soothing.  So, again, I was happy.  Then I looked up and I saw blue skies with a vibrant rainbow.

I've never seen a rainbow in Manhattan before.  Ever.

And then my shuffle-all brought up Gene Kelly's classic "Singin' in the Rain."

By gum, I was ecstatic.  What a wonderful concoction of good!  It's so rare that a million little pieces conspire together in such beautiful harmony--I was smiling ear to ear at this point.  I'm sure every person I passed was confused beyond recognition, but I couldn't have cared less.  The world, in that moment, on that walk home, was perfect.

And waiting for me on my kitchen table was a hand-written letter from my best friend.

It's the small things in life that make the best days.  No diamonds, no fancy dinners out, no winning the lottery, no "A" on a paper.  Just a text from you or the right song on shuffle.  The chance to pet a cute dog.  Just a good cup of coffee in the morning.  Simple pleasures--that's all I need to make me smile.

(This is not the rainbow I saw today--I got this one off of Google.)

Yours,
The A.S.S.

A Little Stumble, A Little Ridicule

It was a long day, I was exhausted and I was power-walking my way home.  All I wanted to do was just get off of my feet, lie down, get into my bed and simply relax.  So I'm walking really fast in order to get to that bed.

And I'm walking.  I'm walking for ten minutes.  Twenty minutes.  When I'm twenty-five minutes in and only a block away from home, my shoe catches a crack in the pavement and I stumble a bit.  No flailing around, no falling, just a little bump and a quick pull of the foot forward to compensate and catch my momentum.  Really, not a big deal.  Slightly embarrassing, since I was power-walking and dodging in and out of people, but really not a big deal at all.

Which is what I thought.  But apparently, some girls walking behind me disagreed.

Some Money, a Boy, and a Man

Just a little story to warm your heart:

I was sitting in the park yesterday afternoon doing a bit of reading. It was a gorgeous, perfect fall day out--a light breeze, cool temperatures, and lots of sun. I had my music, I had my own bench, I had a good lunch, I was dog-watching, I was happy.

After only about ten minutes of being there, I saw this kid approach this man who had just walked past me. The kid had literally run up to him and tapped the man's shoulder to get his attention. The man seemed upset that he was being disrupted, but the kid just held out his hand and said "Hey mister, you dropped your money." It couldn't have been more than three bucks.

The man stared at the money returned to his hand and had this look of utter astonishment. When he finally looked back up, the boy had already started running back to wherever he came from. The man shouted after him "Thanks, kid!" And then he lowered his voice since the boy was gone and muttered, "I really appreciate it..." He slowly turned away and kept on walking.

And I was enamored. With a HUGE smile plastered on my face, I was so touched by such a beautiful display of innocence, selflessness, and sheer kindness. It was like a movie. What's more, however, was the unspoken communication shared between the observers. I turned my head after the incident and could see several people to my side who had all also seen the scene unfold--they were smiling too. We made eye contact and shared a new smile that said "I'm glad you appreciate this as much as I do." Something in me knew that a "pay it forward"-esque train had just picked up a lot of momentum.

Inspired,

The A.S.S.

"I think you're ignorant and dead wrong."

In New York, I feel it goes without saying that many people are liberal. Staunchly liberal. And I am not. I have some liberal tendencies, but I identify myself as an independent and actually lean right on many issues. Blasphemy! It's shocking, right? Well, that's just how I've always been even since I first started paying any attention to politics. I am not ashamed of my political beliefs, but I do tend to keep them quiet due to the persecution I know will come about as soon as I open my mouth and contradict anything extremely liberal in conversation. You see, that's just how it's always been for me.

Like a Spring Phoenix

One day not too long ago, I stepped outside. I was shocked by what I saw.

Whistle Wonders

As I walk down the street, I'm frustrated and angry and upset and generally in a bad mood. Things are pretty shitty so I'm walking it out, storming down the street. My muscles are tensed up; if you'd said anything to me, I would've walked right by. I was NOT a happy camper.

Then I heard whistling. It wasn't a particularly nice day out, and Hall & Oates wasn't playing over loudspeakers somewhere, so I assumed that people wouldn't automatically be happy and smiling and whistling. But someone was. Who was happily whistling?! I needed to know who and why.