I know, I’ve just lost by utilizing the word “trying”, but it’s true.  I don’t know if it’s going to work out because I’ve already associated bad things with all things healthily aerobic. I don’t know if I can “pick things up and put them down”. I don’t know if I can handle selling myself out and saddle up with the runners I despise. They take over beautiful parks, pulsing their need to be enjoyed. Quietly. Serenely. And with less ugly footwear.

I can’t pinpoint when this started happening either, but I’ve almost hit runners with my car enough times to think they’re just stupid. Because really, what am I supposed to say to their loved ones when their entrails are spilling out into the street and the ambulance has come to scrape their bodily remains off my car? “I’m sorry that your daughter is an idiot. Apparently having headphones in also makes you temporarily blind”. At this point, my driving skills have become a public service. Thank god I’m agile.

Ironic, how many runners must die every year while being incredibly careless, disregarding the rules of the road and finding the moment of their perish during their quest for healthy living. I’m sure the statistic is staggeringly high.

Fitting, the boston marathon is tomorrow. Making it impossible for cars to get anywhere near the runners for one whole day. I’d love nothing more than to  designate the day to getting a chair and watching them all go by while enjoying runner unfriendly activities.

I’ve decided to take up circuit training. Writing this instead of doing my taxes has helped make up my mind about runners. But I will do this:

Circuit Training at Home

If driving to the gym (much less working out in front of God and everybody) is a deterrent, Westcott recommends setting up a modified circuit at home. This way, you can also tailor your circuit to your fitness level. Beginners, for example, might use 5-pound weights and move up as their strength improves.

Your home circuit could go like this:

• 30 seconds of squats
• 30 seconds on a stationary bike, or jogging in place or on a treadmill

• 30 seconds of lunges (watch those knees!)
• 30 seconds of cycling or jogging

• 30 seconds of chest presses on a weight bench or sturdy table
• 30 seconds of cycling or jogging

• 30 seconds of bent-over rows on a weight bench or sturdy table
• 30 seconds of cycling or jogging
• 30 seconds of shoulder presses (push your arms straight overhead with palms facing out)
• 30 seconds of cycling or jogging
• 30 seconds of biceps curls
• 30 seconds of cycling or jogging
• Repeat the whole cycle at least three times.

Thanks Web MD!

Happy Marathon Monday! Do your taxes! I’m doing mine now! Or tomorrow.

My online persona has been acted out by strangers.

I recognize how strange that sentance was to write and to read, but I guess I’ll get that out of the way now: Someone played me in a play, in front of my very eyes. I didn’t know what to expect, since this has never happened before. To anyone I know. It was a black box play, so the only thing that was lit up was the stage which was almost surrounded by 50 or 60 seats. Some of you might be wondering why this happened: I don’t know why.

I have no idea why.

The actors were prop-less and used only the lines in our posts and the conviction in their voices. That sheer will alone was truly inspiring. I couldn’t believe they memorized these posts. They’re taking from blogs, so it’s not like they’re brief little snippets. These are long winded, descriptive, sometimes arduous posts that the actors executed cue free in front of all of us. Not only did they not mess up or forget, they made the posts attractive and were very effective in stimulating the crowd’s attention. These people had read through this material for months and they were probably very nervous on Wednesday (opening) night and just did an awesome job.

There’s so much I want to say about this event and I’m going to try and tackle almost all of them in order of importance:

1. The actress that played me was SO COOL.

She: Told me about her own teacup collection and her fascination with snow suits, had good style, went to the Beehive with us as her friends and my friends all had after-show drinks, we exchanged business cards and found out we had people in common through other people and I hope we become friends who hang out. Her blog was listed on her business card so i went on it to see what the deal was and it turns out that she mentions the potential-me in one of her posts (before we met) and her description of potential-us was:

“In an alternate universe where we meet before i played her blogger personality in a show, we would’ve been those cool friends who wear vintage clothes without trying too hard and we make fun of hipsters at bars in places like Harvard Square or Allston where we may or may not also sort of be hipsters but would never admit it.”

Uncanny.

2. My friends came and showed support, which I just love. I already celebrated a birthday party about three weeks ago and the idea of forcing more people into a situation where I, essentially, monopolized attention again seemed too much. But they came out anyway, with very little notice, and that’s why I love my friends. Also, the perplexity of this event isn’t lost on them, since most of them greeted me with raised eyebrows and smug smirks at the introduction of each post they recognized only through the characteristic tone I couldn’t objectively describe. I’m sure they could.

At one point, during the play’s rendition of my Bucket List post (which I found a surprising choice), all of the actors were up reciting the various tasks I’d like to accomplish before I died. Some serious and intimate, some silly, all very readily screamed: “These are Irene’s Goals Duh”. As our eyes darted from each actor, and, then amongst each other, in what ended up resembling a fireworks display of cognative, emotional and volitional brian activity, I just kept thinking about how fantastic this all was.

I wish I had written: “Have my life written into a play of some sort and then go see it” on my bucket list. Who would have thought something like that was possible.

I gotta start making my dreams, hopes and wishes a bit more creative.

I’ll settle for five out of six.

This isn’t a real blog post. I mean, it exists, obviously. If someone reads it and shrieks in disappointment, and no one is around to hear it, did the post still get read? Or however that analogy is supposed to go? Yes.

But what I’m here to talk about today is: my blog (along with 5 others) is being made into a show! Yay! If you think this is unfortunate, I’m SORRY. I can’t please everyone.

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but, it’s happening this week! Yay again!

What I would like is to reach a level of fame where I can get paid to show up at parties. You know. Cool parties. And I’ll wear supercool free clothes designers send me in neutrals and have my picture taken as I’m looking, earnestly and complacently, into the camera. Obviously if this happens enough, I’ll have to move somewhere near the airport for practical reasons. Then I’ll sit and count my money in the privacy of my gorgeous castle fortress and laugh manically with the light of sweet dreams realizing, resonating, from the twinkle in my eye. I’ll make my way towards the vista bestowed upon my balcony and offer the world my dazzling song.

Ah the future.

But for now: buy tickets to this show if you want: Here

The show is called Blogoliloquy by Turnstyle Theatre.

4/4/2012 – 4/7/2012
Turnstyle Theatre Company
BCA Plaza Black Box @ Boston Center for the Arts

Wed/Thurs: 7:30 PM
Fri/Sat: 8:00 PM
Sat: 3:00 PM

I think I’m going on Wednesday! In case you’re an Internet friend and you want my autograph.

Speaking of streets: I saw three complete disasters when I was trying to go out in Boston last night. Crying, falling, body parts that shouldn’t be exposed, exposed, drunk. I’m not going to say I’m too good for that because everyone has issues and that’s fine. I will say, however, that I’ve segregated my own such past experiences to times I’ve been out of the country… Thus perpetuating any stereotypes europeans hold over Americans.

One thing Europeans do have over the Americas is getting a drink somewhere when you want to. Pretty much whenever. Because getting a drink should be like stopping to get a slurpee at 7 Eleven. It should NOT be like waiting in a communist bread line.

I was in the middle of Chinatown/financial district, waiting outside of a “lounge” wanting to just go someplace that isn’t crazy that would serve us at 11:30 on a Saturday night. We didn’t want to get sloppy. We didn’t want to have an EPIC night. We just wanted a drink. 11:30 turned into 12:50 and most places stop serving at 1:00.

I don’t even know why we waited for so long. We lost track of time through a combination of talking amongst ourselves and talking to the people next to us in line. Then, outraged at 12:50, we decided to go somewhere else. And no other bars were open.

I hardly ever go out downtown because most of the time, it’s a miserable experience. Boston is otherwise a metropolitan city. There are fun things to do at every hour of the day except after 10:00PM. Why. Why.

And then you have people constantly comparing New York to Boston. Including me, I do it too. And every time I do it makes me so mad. I don’t want to be envious of another city just so I can enjoy something as simple as being able to go out for a drink with three of my girlfriends and RELAX at 11:30 on a Saturday.

Is that really such a luxury?

Let’s get it together BOSTON.

Otherwise I’m never going to come back.

NEVER.

I’ve found the lunchtime equivalent to making soup. Because making soup takes forever.

Chicken Salad sandwiches. I made a deliciously complicated chicken salad last night and I was going to make a sandwich for work and forgot to this morning. You can put everything, anything in them. Raisins. Red onion. Celery. Sunflower seeds with or without shells. Although in this world, when you can buy bags of sunflower seeds without shells, why would you ever bother with shells? I haven’t done any research on this, but I hope it’s a machine that de-shells them and not humans. If it’s humans, I’d probably stop buying them since I can’t think of anything more asenine than someone de-shelling tiny sunflower seeds just so some 20-something girl living in America can buy a bag of it for a dollar. Which segways nicely into:

One of my freelancer friends, Andre, went to Haiti to shoot children playing in Port Au Prince for the Life is Good “Playmakers”, which is really nice. I normally understand the fact that millions of people are starving on our planet constantly or that people get killed pretty much all the time for disgustingly stupid reasons. I’ve gotten to a comfortable level with it where it doesn’t make me really sad anymore… except when your friend comes back from Haiti with pictures of children:

Living in squalor

Being very cute

Having on adorable outfits

Playing and laughing

All while probably being very hungry

Because people in Haiti were starving before the earthquake

Now, still starving, with less shelter

A lot of them were playing soccer barefoot

I don’t know if you’ve ever kicked a soccer ball barefoot… it really hurts

They were really good at soccer

They were having so much fun and really loved being in front of the camera

My friends shot it and it looks like a Fisher Price commercial

That means there are many many shots of Haitian children looking innocently into the camera and singing lyrics from the reggae song

Oh yeah, they were shooting a music video… for children and fundraisers…

Again, they were laughing a lot

I heard about this organization with Life is Good from Andre but didn’t do any investigative work on my own. Until now. My friend saw me shed altruistic tears of sadness at the sight of the initial raw footage he showed me. Which is just as well since the edited, polished up version is probably going to tug at your heartstrings more vigorously than any raw footage could. So, again, he saw me cry and I almost never cry! I cry maybe three or four times a year, which I don’t think is very much. Considering how much stuff can happen to you in a year.

And I embarrassingly uttered strands of emotionally abusive and annoying phrases like: “But what’s gonna happen to them… I mean… are they always hungry? Did you give them any food? What. What do you mean it wouldn’t make a difference, of course it would make a difference. Why didn’t you just buy everyone food all the time how expensive can food be in Haiti?! But they’re poor right… I mean they’re always gonna be poor… they’re going to grow up and realize everything sucks and you’re right, it DOESN’T matter if you bought them any food does it???”. He and I are very good friends.

I wish he would have elaborated on the work the Playmakers actually do in Haiti and I’m a little annoyed with myself that it’s taken this long for me to find out. They do this:

THE PLAYMAKERS GET TO WORK: Working with local partners, Life is good Playmakers has trained a large group of front-line child care providers to bring healing play to children in the tent cities and orphanages around Port-au-Prince. They call themselves the Gerye Jwa (Creole for “Joy Warriors”) since they are committed to protecting the playful optimism of Haiti’s children. Already they are conducting Playmaker groups with thousands of children every week.
A core team of these Gerye Jwa received additional training both in Haiti and in the United States, enabling them to take the lead in training hundreds of other relief workers throughout Haiti. Talented, dedicated Haitians equipping more and more of their fellow Haitians to heal and strengthen children — this is a sensible and sustainable model for a stronger Haiti.

You can look at their PLAY MAKERS website here!

I’ll post the video once it’s done editing, but it’s probably unsafe for work because you’ll be crying and everyone’s gonna know you’re a sissy.

And just to tie in the beginning of this a little better, I meant what I said about chicken salad. It’s so awesome! Don’t be afraid to put pieces of fruit in it. It makes it better. And if you don’t like doing that, get over it. It has nothing to do with your taste in food, it has to do with your spirit. Let it reign free. Like the joy warriors of Life is Good. Your spirit wants to mix sweet and savory things. Or sad and joyous things. It’s all about balance and we like balance.

We all do.

I was driving through Watertown yesterday on my way to enjoy a really nice, sunny warm Sunday afternoon and came across the cutest thing in the WORLD.

The world.

A man in his 50s has reached local celebrity status through his zeal for finding a companion. A dreamer. An opportunity seeking spirited pioneer of love! I noticed a flier on the back windshield of an SUV. My friend Sean told me he sees cars with these fliers on them everywhere.

1. The idea itself melts my heart and is so incredibly sweet.
2. People are embracing this idea much like I am. And are willingly endorsing it on their physical property. Which, I would too if someone gave me a flier.
3. This man is a total catch. He is incredibly active and is probably very fun to hang with. Perhaps a bit too old for me, but a very handsome option for many ladies in their 50s!
4. He isn’t looking for a younger girl! He wants a woman in her 50s! What a guy!
5. When was the last time you heard an older man express the sentiment of wanting to meet a single woman in his age group.
6. I love that he’s a florist and doesn’t want to retire.
7. I love that he’s created a dead flower business. A man who doesn’t like waste.
8. I LOVE when older people utilize “lol” and write it in all caps. LOL. It’s been a while since I’ve used it but the older crowd is still really into it.
9. I pass by his florist shop all the time.
10. I hope he makes it!

MarryDave.com

He is offering a $1,000 reward for the person responsible for finding him a mate.

A little excerpt from his website below:

I’m just your average, Jeep driving, blue collar type – a flower shop owner and a nice guy just looking to meet a nice lady for love, romance, fun and hopefully marriage.

A woman to love and to cherish and adore and do all the little things for…a serious,(but fun) relationship & marriage forever! I was married twice and I’ve been divorced more than 10 years…It didn’t work out with my first wife, but I’m fortunate to have 2 great kids and 3 cute, little grandsons! In the case of my second wife – I was stupid and left a wonderful woman and her great kids – just dumb! I won’t make that mistake again!

I love pets …dogs and even cats (LOL!), …also horses and most other animals from a distance – cute little monkeys especially fascinate me!

I don’t fly, but do like to take drive trips, train, but I don’t know about a cruise anymore!

I’m not a big money guy, so I can’t afford to retire (contrary to what might have been reported in a tv interview) – not that I would want to, anyway – I like working! At different times, I’ve owned multiple flower shops, and current have an off shoot business – DeadFlowers.US …which should be very busy around April Fool’s Day! ;>) Also, I’ve owned a small convenient store and been a very successful singles party planner – if you can believe that!

Apparently the Boston Globe is all over this.

Good for them. I love that things like this still happen. People exhibit their trust and optimism that this world can bring them the things they most want. I hope this guy finds a great woman. If you know of any great women…

Please! Speak up!

A few more parting words from Dave:

For another view of me, punch in WIFE WANTED MARRY DAVE @ YouTube. A video interview by the Boston Herald.

If you’re from out of Mass. and we really hit it off online and phone,etc…I”d consider flying you in to Boston for us to meet. “Please ~ come ~ to ~ Boston ~ for ~ the Springtime…”

And finally, YES, there REALLY is a $1,000 “reward” for the person who is responsible for me meeting the woman that I marry(and the person would be the guest of honor at our wedding! So, if you’re not her, but have a friend who might be the perfect match for me, send her here to my website. Of course, if it happens to be you, then you own 1/2 of the $1,000 automatically by default! ha,ha! LOL!

Awe.

If it were real life, most of these people wouldn’t be as attractive. I like that Dolce and Gabbana are bringing it back. Getting real with their target audience with getting in touch with the Italian thing. It’s a good shtick and I genuinely enjoy seeing these ads as I sift through the various magazines I’ve subscribed for that I hardly get a chance to read…

As far as fashion photography goes, they’re alive! They’re emotional, charming and festive. A good job well done. And looking through the photos, I can recognize the types of relationships they’re trying to depict. I have relationships like the one’s depicted here with various cousins, aunts, uncles, immediate family members.

I think the one that really strikes a cord is the sixth one down. The one where it looks like a mother is telling her son to not do something. Her thumb and index finger are touching which is something I experienced as a kid when I was just about to do something seriously annoying. This would be accompanied with something like “I swear to god. I will kill you.” Seems violent, but this is exactly the expulsive passionate language the Mediterranean is comfortable utilizing. It even goes beyond comfort, it’s preference. And it was moments like this, index-thumb touching yelling moments that sent shivers down my spine.

Even now, my cousins who have kids will do it and I still feel the shivers when they reprimand their own children this way. Which they do… as I probably will. I know there’s nothing I can do about it and I have to witness the judgement and punishment encapsulated in that moment. But, as I and countless others born into these highly emotionally intense societies, they get over it. Within seconds. Life moves on and you try not to be relegated to shame next time.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this dichotomy between the life force and the destructive force. Eros and thanatos, if you will. Although that’s a little different but I don’t think it has to be. Basic principles. Fitting, on Valentine’s day to be talking about eros really, on a day where people are having anti-valentine’s day squirrel burning ceremonies. Or whatever FREAKS do.

I think Whitney Houston is also affecting me. The whole “so much vitality” thing. Generally, I think it takes a lot of work to instill this need to create within oneself. “Creating” might even just be as easy as getting out of bed in the morning and deciding you’re going to be productive, you’re going to do things that will cast a sheet of sunlight into your life, whatever that means.

For some people, that means waking up at 5 in the morning to put metal planks on their feet and hurl themselves down the side of a mountain. For me, it means walking around aimlessly for hours, letting the wind and the sounds of a crowded city block serve as my invisible hand. To each their own. Sometimes I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to see people that I know will make me feel happy, I don’t want to embody the life force. It’s hard and it takes effort and sometimes I just want to destroy.

And this idea of destruction can also inherently beautiful too. It makes way for the new, does away with the old things in your life that no longer serve you. It gives you the power and energy to execute something. Even when bringing something to completion, you’re destroying something. If it’s complete it loses its former life as a work in progress and it becomes a new entity that takes on a life of its own. And sometimes that life is more lonely than the “work in progress” part.

This might be why I hardly ever finish paintings. Maybe I can find somewhere to hang them once they’re done. Or get over the idea that the painting might feel “sad”…

Anyway I guess the life force could be synonymous with the divine spark. The rush of activity that goes in to make something happen. A new relationship, a new job, a new project, those moments when you really want to just do something and you do and it happens perfectly. Any time you’re in “the zone”. I love being in the zone. It’s so much fun, but again, it’s exhausting. And then you want to let it all go.

What a weight the life force brings with it.

How freeing and satisfying it feels to destroy.

It’s such a balancing act. Too much destruction turns you into Whitney Houston. Too much divine spark makes you, I don’t know, schizophrenic… Unless Whitney Houston was schizophrenic… though that might have been Diana Ross.  Embracing the light rears Katy Perry post-divorce results. Have you listened to “Part of me”? My gosh!

I don’t even want to go into Katy Perry because I know that’s boring but I have to say that I love her, as I always have, and I am so proud of my girl!!

I felt so sad for her when I saw her at that awards show where she was dressed up as a Japanese doll with purple hair and a parasol. She looked sad, but you know, she was trying.

I wish I could end this post with a video of “Part of me”… but I can’t because it doesn’t exist yet.

Someone should channel some life force into making that happen, methinks.

Happy Valentine’s Day

I love Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Obviously. It’s a lot of life lessons in one movie. It’s probably earlier than my generation. By a couple of years, I guess. But that’s what’s nice is that we knew it was good so we watched it. Plus then you get into the Smiths and then it becomes about that whole thing a little. The scene when they’re in the art museum and they’re holding hands with the kids walking single file. Man.

I didn’t watch the superbowl so I missed out on all the commercials. Looking through them, most were horrendous. Although there was a funny one about a dog losing weight and bringing it back’ for Volkswagen. And I do often enjoy Volkswagen commercials, always clever. And with marketing like that, the makers of das auto deserve the success they’ve been having. Bravo!

But this CRV one about Honda just made me feel so sad. Especially after Mathew Broderick makes the joke about his boss buying what was the worse performance of his entire career. With dead eyes.

Because he knows this is!

Shame on you Honda. Shame on you Mathew Broderick.

I’d love to know who’s awful idea this was. It’s not even done well. It’s flat, boring, lagging and, Mathew Broderick looks like he’s been taking too much lithium.

I was just trying to have some fun and now this happened.

I wish I could intimately understand what she’s saying. I think I can recognize one out of every ten words. And whatever I recognize probably doesnt mean what I think it does.

Also I wish I could wear those black shorts. And have them look like they do on her…

Relish: