Chapter 59: Elections!

I'm a little confused. Let me see if I have this straight...

* If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic, different."
* Grow up in Alaska eating moose burgers, a quintessential American story.
* If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
* Name your kids Willow, Trig and Track, you're a maverick.
* Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.
* Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
* If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate representing a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's
Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience.
* If your total resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.
*If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.
* If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
* If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
* If, while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.
* If your wife is a Harvard graduate lawyer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America' s.
* If you're husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.

God bless America...

**I didn't write this; something I found that seemed worth reading.

Chapter 58: New beginnings...

i love the first day of school. even as a kid when every other kid dreaded that first day, that first bus ride, that first bell, i loved it. i loved it mostly for the school supplies. nothing gets me off quite like a fresh new stack of sharpened pencils, unopened pens (red, black and blue), pristine red erasers, highlighters in every fluorescent color. don't even get me started on color coordinated folders and notebooks for each subject.

there's something to the newness of these supplies that attracted me. notebooks that were untouched and unwritten in, without those little scraps left behind in the wiring when you rip out a page. the pencils had perfect erasers and the pens were full of ink. my stacks of post-its were all even, all the same since not a single one had been hastily scribbled on and smashed onto my wall. they were perfectly undefiled and new, just waiting for the school year to take its toll on them.

beginning anything is exciting. a new adventure that could go anywhere and lead you to anything, good or bad. it could be a new year at college or a new relationship, the excitement is amazingly scintillating. especially when you are so excited for it. it's like a new chapter, a new chance, an amazing start.

as for me, i've learned to go to the stationary lane at cvs whenever i'm down and take in those pristine supplies. ah the feeling of new. nothing beats it.

Chapter 57: Today.

someone was lost today. this shouldn't be surprising as someone is lost everyday, nearly every minute, nearly every second. the difference is when that someone is so special, is a light to so many around us.

someone was cherished and beloved. someone made everyone smile with his really dumb jokes that i didn't understand half the time but laughed at anyway. he always looked so pleased when he said those jokes that i couldn't help but laugh to appease that expectant face. someone would always attempt to make light of any situation, regardless of how serious. this was especially frustrating when i was trying to teach someone how to dance in a performance that was 2 weeks away.
someone was a terrible dancer.

someone was a son, a brother, a child, my nephew. someone was a best friend to so many people. i've always wondered how many people would come to my funeral; there will never be this many. i wanted to tell someone that i was jealous; he was so popular. someone would say, "please, sherene chechi, look who's talking, miss popular-dance-teacher-hottie." again, i wouldn't get it, but i would laugh.

someone was so happy, always. even at those times when you think that you can never be happy, right before you are about to die, even then. he was happy. the only thing that made him sad was that this mother would be sad, and that he wouldn't be there to comfort her. despite the fact that all she would want at that moment was him and that all he would want at that moment would be to comfort her, it would be impossible.

someone lives in everyone he touched. when anyone is up late on aim, comforting someone else who has a test tomorrow, someone is there. when anyone is so warm and kind and so full of life, someone is there. and when anyone makes a really dumb comment that i will not even begin to understand, someone is there.

rip selvin
05/11/1990-08/23/2008

Chapter 56: Gods and Men.

the world is currently crazed with the recent olympic games held in beijing. each athlete has become a beacon of hope for his or her country, a symbol of hope, etc etc etc. i can't help but see greek gods on those fields, sculpted bodies that perform the most amazing of deeds. they are never mere men and women; they are the extraordinary, the sublime, the blessed. i'm always in awe at the sheer power i see in those pumping biceps on the track or the veins that push through in those arms racing through water or even the sweat that slowly drips down a face so intent on proving something amazing.

more than that, i see what the mere mortal is not. here are men and women intent on winning, but never forgetting their team members or the talent of those around them. my father, an athlete himself, would always impress upon me the importance of good sportsmanship, the willingness to take what comes with dignity and pride. these people are the epitome of this view point for they've won just by being there.

in all honestly, why don't we just leave world matters to these god-like beings? to decide who gets more of a particular resource, the fastest athlete wins. to decide who wins a dispute, the most agile gymnast wins. the best part is that there are never any sore losers, never anyone grabbing for more, each happy with the work that he/she has done and what each has earned. no losers, no sad faces, no loss. sounds good to me.

Chapter 55: Angels and my demons.

i wonder if angels are ever disappointed. there are so many things in this world that could, do and will go wrong that i wonder if an angel ever takes a step back, lets out a long sigh and says, "damnit, human, appreciate what you have."

we all know that angels can get jealous since that was the reason for lucifer's fall from grace. in his jealousy of the love God afforded mankind, he turned on all that created him, resulting in his banishment from heaven into eternal damnation. it seems that angels are not without their own complaints and negative thoughts. they just can't act on them.

but don't they ever get frustrated? here they are, assigned to guard and protect humanity forever, yet all humans seem to repeat the mistakes of those who came before them. that has to be just so infuriatingly annoying. if you've ever tutored a child or taught anyone anything and you came across a situation where that person just can't see the big picture and makes the same mistake again and again despite you being able to see exactly what needs to be done to get it right, you know what i mean. why can't they see it, why can't they see what they have?

then again, i suppose that's why they're angels. that never ending patience and love even for the most disobedient of people. most of all, that hope that things will get better. they never lose hope in humanity, and continue to believe in the good in us. all we can do is hope to be worthy of such high tolerance.

Chapter 54: Umbrellas

i was caught in a freak storm yesterday in nyc as i walked to the bus terminal to go home. it was one of those classic, couldn't-be-real-so-it-must-be-a-movie storms that came out of nowhere, sending everyone running under scaffolding and transforming the daily newspapers into useless forms of protection. i'm fairly certain that somewhere in the city, a fabulously dressed man and woman managed to share a space under a platform, and are now in love.

luckily for me, i had my one-person umbrella which i pulled out smartly to preserve my outfit (in nyc, this is a concern). but if anyone has been in new york during any kind of storm, you know that precipitation doesn't fall straight down. it goes up, right, left, around corners, even results in minor tornadoes that whip broadway show flyers and random receipts into your eyes as you try to avoid running into oncoming traffic. and my outfit? don't worry, all splattered with splotches of rain.

i stubbornly held on to the umbrella, though. despite it's very obvious ineffectiveness, i refused to put it away. i preferred to struggle against both the elements and the canvas/metal contraption that i had in my hands. like so many things in my life, i held on to something that was supposed to protect me and obviously didn't. why did i think that because it promised to protect me, it would? even after i knew it wouldn't.

after a few minutes of arguing with myself, i put away the umbrella and enjoyed the weather. hair whipping around my face, clothes getting more and more soaked, i strolled through the storm, totally comfortable, completely fine. and not having to deal with so called protective resources. i just needed myself.

Chapter 53: Time. Or lack thereof.

the generation of "the rules" is actually before mine, but the aftershocks seem to have seeped their way into the present. these "rules" were a code that all women should follow in order to not only bag themselves a man, but a husband.

one of the key components of these rules was how to use time effectively. for example, one should never call a member of the opposite sex the day after he/she met him/her. wait. and they will come to you. or the classic concept of wait before engaging in any activities too soon, for this will not only guarantee that you will not find yourself a husband, but that you also happen to be a whore.

the main point behind the rules is to take things slowly and carefully, using prudence along each step of the courting process. only by careful observation and judgment can one land the goal that everyone appears to be pursuing: true love.

so what happened to the days of yore when "love at first sight" and "head over heels" were the mantras of those who were willing to engage in the games of love? every great love story starts with that sighting across the room of someone so captivating you think she's an angel, of the glint in one's eye that makes you want to know more, of that soft laugh that makes you yearn to be the one that made that witty comment. we've all learned and celebrated the classic tale of romeo and juliet, whose love started in this way, but why don't we practice that anymore?

there are many skeptics out there who claim that this is lust at first sight, which it is for some people. but let's not forget that the initial attraction is what leads to more, and upon looking at someone, what more do you have to go on but their appearance and mode of carrying themselves? but lust cannot be equated with the concept of wanting to know more about a person.

i've been in a situation where i met someone and instantly wanted to know who he was, through and through. what made him laugh, cry, what he thought of the educational system in america, what foods he preferred over others. lust would have made me wanted to know other things, not what his opinions are on the upcoming elections. i'm not saying that i fell in love at that moment, but that excitement of realizing that this was someone who i could like a lot more was beyond exhilarating. and something we need to bring back into vogue.

Chapter 52: Cover of darkness

i've always wished that the things i do under the cover of darkness would go erased. kind of like the ostrich theory where an ostrich sticks it's head in sand in the hopes that if it doesn't see you, you're not there. likewise, if no one saw it happen, then it didn't.

unless i myself wasn't drunk enough and happened to remember the next morning. or within a few hours when i sobered up. or when i realized that it was still staring me in the face.

i've always lived my life without regrets. this definitely doesn't mean that i haven't made mistakes (i've made plenty, i assure you), but i take the best that i can from each negative experience and try to learn from everything. it is the amalgamation of my experiences that make me who i am, after all.

i recently made an interesting decision under the cover of darkness that i almost instantly regretted. an out of character, reputation ruining, made me want to wake up to a new day decision. and this also turned out to be something that seemed to continue throughout the night, and though it was a really enjoyable night, dawn and reality both smacked me awake the next morning. i was hoping beyond hope that nothing was ruined and whatever happened would stay in that obscure darkness where it happened.

except this decision stuck with me. it was one of those things that i publicly wanted to wish away, but privately hoped wouldn't leave. and it didn't. now i realize that the darkness that i hoped would hide it completely was merely hiding what it really was: an opportunity at true happiness.

Chapter 51: Letters to words to sentences to meaning

if anyone has ever spent 10 minutes with me, they know that i am a rather prolific texter. spurred from my love of the written language and my parents incessant need to use up all of our shared minutes, i'm one of those people for whom the cell phone has become another appendage, one that's never too far from my fingers. at any one time, i could be having a multitude of conversations, all while checking email or watching tv.

i've also noticed, however, that i am more inclined to type out a message rather than actually call a person and tell them the message. is this wrong? i've heard a lot of people say that this can be a really impersonal way of communicating with others since i'm apparently avoiding personal contact. but this, to me, is personal. knowing that my medium of choice is the written word and this is the best way for me to communicate, shouldn't someone be flattered that my fingers flew about the keyboard as the t9 frantically assigned all the words i demanded of it, just to tell someone a message from my heart?

i guess people fear that with the advancement of technology and science, we'll lose our humanity. that we'll settle for interfacing rather than communicating, or cyber-anthings instead of touch. especially with advent of multi player worlds where avatars become someone and the physical human never has to leave his home, i can see why people would fear this.

but i look at it as a godsend. when i'm lying in bed at 3 in the morning, wishing that someone was near me, don't i reach for my phone to text them a simple "i love you"? and when that person wakes up in the morning and checks his phone, he'll see that i was thinking of him at that time and simply could not wait until dawn to give him that message.

and what about all those friends i've made in college who have been flung to the far reaches of the world? gchat and aim help me to know that they're doing well, loving their new job, and met a fabulous person they're going to have coffee with next week at a time when i'll be sound asleep on this part of the world.

this anti-social medium has turned me into a much more social person. what seems impersonal is, in fact, what keeps things personal in my life.

Chapter 50: Expectations

i hate when people push you to do something so much in order to meet their expectations. why would anyone be arrogant enough to assume that they're expectations are what should be met?

this doesn't just refer to those usually unattainable expectations that parents have for their children that teenagers rebel against with all their might. it's those things that friends or significant others expect you to do, just because you are a friend or significant other. that peer pressure that's so annoying because it's not a random peer, but someone who should understand.

this is probably the worst kind of pressure because it's so hard to say no to these people. you don't want to offend them because they are such a big part of your life, but it's so hard to convince them that what they want is different from your wants. you become so close to these people that it's assumed you have the same desires, but when one realizes that this isn't the case, it can be incredibly awkward to initiate that split.

friends or couples should never be attached at the hip and shouldn't ever morph into one, never ending person. why don't people hold on to those initial characteristics that made that friend or loved one notice them in the first place?

Chapter 49: Building webs are for suckas.

this is what i do at work. recommended by a friend. enjoy.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=p2HipedgM3I

Chapter 48: Exhaustion.

have you ever been in that state of mind when you are just so utterly exhausted that it seems as if you are perpetually wading through a viscous fluid that will simply not let you get over to the water cooler and everything, even your boss's ungainly walk that you just think is weird and have surmised must be the result of some exotic childhood injury, seems hysterically funny?

that's me today. and yes, my office has a water cooler that dispenses cold, hot and room temperature water.

any suggestions on how to overcome extreme exhaustion (read: boredom) would be greatly appreciated.

Chapter 47: Bollywood!

bollywood just went mainstream! this has to be one of the proudest moments of my life.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=S5OcjkXTKEQ

Chapter 46: Amen.

this single-handedly made my day, nay, my week:

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your Always Maxi Pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the Leak GuardCore(tm) or Dri-Weave(tm) absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from "the curse"? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my "time of the month" is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call "an inbred hillbilly with knife skills. "As Brand Manager in the Feminine-hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthly visits from "Aunt Flo". Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: "Have a Happy Period." Are you f__king kidding me? Does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything "happy" about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Kmart armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, if you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like "Put Down the Hammer" or "Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong", or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull s__t. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,
A former customer

Chapter 45: Thankful.

we always assume that if we were to ever find a purse or wallet on the street, we would return it, right? we want to believe with all our hearts that we are truly good people and that we would do the right thing if presented with the choice.

yet, i've noticed so many times when people did the wrong thing or the apathetic thing just because it was easy at the time. after all, as humans, we are creatures of convenience. we come up with ways to get places faster and easier and with the least amount of exertion possible. doesn’t charity require some kind of exertion? especially now, when time is of so much value and one’s worth in this world is determined by what and how much you can produce, doing any kind of work for nothing has become a luxury commodity.

i’ll be the first to admit that i’m not the best person that i could be. i’ve averted my eyes when on the subway and someone asks me for change. i’ve watched with horror and pity at children in third world countries who didn’t have proper water. but which of those is worse, not helping the person next to me or a child thousands of miles away? i have always been a firm believer in rousseau’s theory that humans are by nature good, but corrupted by society. if no one else looks at the guy begging on the subway, i wonder why i should.

until a few days ago. i lost my purse in my local shop rite two days ago. i spent the past two days despairing over everything that was lost, and trying in vain to find it somehow. today, i received a package in the mail from “A Child of Christ” who took the trouble to find my address and only removed the amount of money it took to send the purse back to me. i was honestly dumbfounded that someone out there cared enough about me, a person he/she has never seen and will probably never seen, in order to send me back my valuables.

thank you, A Child in Christ, for restoring my faith in humanity.

Chapter 44: Thirst quenchers

my morning bus ride always affords me with plenty of surprises. i've seen old classmates i haven't talked to since graduation, people from my hometown i never cared to see again but reveled in the fact that they’ve gotten old, and some of the most randomly assorted people i have just ever seen. nyc does have a penchant for attracting crazies, even at 7 in the morning.

none of those, however, even come close to the feat i saw about 2 days ago while riding the bus. it was a usually crowded morning, with me sitting in the far back, crushed between two guys who were trying so hard not to fall into me as the bus swerved from side to side. they failed.

swaying along to my headphones and the radio station i was listening to, i tried to see who else was on the bus with me that morning. as discreetly as possible, of course, since no one likes to be watched. to my left, by the window, a little old man sat with his back pack on his lap, staring out the window. he looked like your average little old man with graying hair that was balding in spots and somewhat old clothes.

just as i was looking at him, he reached into his bag and pulled out an entire bottle of jose cuervo tequila. yes, you read that right, tequila. he proceeded to take a long swig from the bottle and then washed it down with orange juice. i mean, it was around breakfast time and orange juice is good for you. without a qualm, he put the bottles back into his bag and continued to stare out the window, with me just staring at him.

i stayed behind to get a better look at him when the bus stopped and people started to file out. as he passed me, he gave me a huge smile and walked off the bus as if nothing had happened.

Chapter 43: Soul mates

i met my soul mate today. her name is andrea and she is a 26 year old red-haired off-broadway actress. how do i know she is my soul mate? the barista at starbucks told us after we both ordered the exact same drink in succession: hot nonfat grande cinnamon dolce latte with no whip. (try saying that really fast. it kind of makes your head spin.)

i simply had to talk to this girl as we were waiting for our drinks because how can you not talk to your soul mate, the one person that you are supposed to be looking for essentially all your life? once we got to talking, however, it became so clear that we had absolutely nothing in common with each other. and i mean, really. there could not have been another person in that room who was more of my opposite than her. she personified the ideal new york city story of making it in the big city because she actually did leave her house after high school to become an actress in the city. i go home to the shelter of my parents every night, which includes a curfew even though i’m 21. she’s never been to college; i intend on staying in college until someone forcibly kicks me out and tells me to get on with my life. she’s rather accomplished in her field and well on her way to being even more successful. i’m still flailing in what i like to refer to as this wonderful little experiment called life. sadly, we ended up parting ways as she had to practice lines and i had to go to work. i wish her all the best in life, being my soul mate and all.

new plan: the next time i see a really hot guy at starbucks, i’m going to stand behind him, memorize his drink, and order exactly that at the same barista that he orders from. creepy? not at all! i can’t help it if i’d like an incredibly attractive soul mate!

Chapter 42: Obsessed.

something i found that is equal parts frightening and beautiful:

I want to be with you, near you, in your arms, under you, inside you, a part of you. I want you to be mine, forever. You will not belong to anyone else, no one else can claim you as theirs except for me. And I, you. I want you to jealously guard me from the world, and not want anyone to look at me or touch me. I want you to believe with all your heart that you are my first and my only. And I want you to believe in that so much that it becomes a reality, my reality. For what you believe, I believe, and simply is. I want us to blend so seamlessly that it’s impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends. I want you to be selfish about me, and I will be selfish about you. I want you inside me, to consume me, to make me yours, to have me yet want me, crave me, and never ever get enough of me. I want to kiss and own every inch of you, take every inch of you, and make every inch of you mine.

I want you to sink into me and feel whole when you are with me. I want you to feel bigger, fuller and more concrete when you are near me, but so full of life that you are light and free. I want to be the thing that awakens you. I want to make you feel incredible and terrible, I want to be your everything. Good, evil, light, dark, smiles, tears. I want to destroy what you were and remake you into what you are and forever shall be. I want you to erase what I was and give me life as who I will become. For as long as I am with you, you have the power to do that to me. Where I walk, you shall follow. And likewise, I, too, will be your shadow.

I want to be the person you see, the person that is reflected in your eyes as I gaze into them. I will be so much more when I am with you because you deserve the best, and that is exactly what you will make me.

And after everything, I want to understand why Adam and Eve had to be cast out from Eden. I want to understand that knowledge of this love can only serve to lift us so high that we are near the heavens, too near. The world was built and continues to exist in cycles, and we have reached a new stage in ours. What has been brought together must be undone, and so shall we. Upon reaching the zenith that you have brought me to, where else can I go but down? The force with which you raised me will be the force with which I fall to the nadir of all that is.

But as God granted us the ability to dream, so too has He given us memory. Every cell in my body will remember its counterpart in yours. What we were will be lost, but I will always look for you, for my mirror, for my very self in another, and for what we shall one day become. And one day, I will find you again. This existent I lead, this world of shadows, will be made real for you are what makes me real. You will breathe strength into me, bring the light back into my eyes, make me feel as no one else will ever be able to do. And who else can? For when we are together, no one else exists but us. because through you, I have found my purpose in this world…

Chapter 41: Bank, baby!

today is a truly wonderful day for me. why, you ask? it's my first ever payday at macmillan publishing.

as a girl who likes the finer things in life, trust me, this is awesome. and i have recently waged a war against every type of tax out there because they are seriously stealing my money. messed up...

Chapter 40: What's in a name, anyway?

a co-worker of mine, mike barry, doesn’t know my name. or he thinks it’s “sharice,” which isn’t really close to “sherene.”

i was seriously upset about this for a few days. after all, if people have no idea what my name is, how will i get anywhere in life? i figured i was especially in trouble if co-workers don’t know my name. granted, i should add that the only time he ever addresses me is in the morning to say “good morning, sharice” because we don’t speak to each other otherwise. he does his thing, i do mine. (and don’t worry, i’m using his full name because 1. do you know how many mike barry’s there are in this world? the sheer number would render it impossible for him to find this. 2. he doesn’t know my name and therefore can’t find my blog and 3. it’s just funny to me)

in my quest to remedy this problem, i asked some people for advice and this is what ensued:

you should somehow find a way to let mike see your name written on paper. for example, pretend that you want him to sign a petition about something (for example, an "end the violence in zimbabwe" petition. there are a lot of those floating around nowadays). then, be like "see, i already signed my name RIGHT HERE." show him your name so that he can see how it's spelled. that way, he'll feel like an idiot for calling you the wrong name! if that doesn't work, legally change your name so that future encounters are not awkward.
so here's how you tell mike what your name is: start talking to him about something fun that happened to you (feel free to use a real-life event or use your imagination). then say: "and then he said, 'SHERENE, you're bleeding!'" or something like that. say something that requires you to say your name.

you should have a loud conversation around him and be like "wow, i really hate when people cant pronounce my name right? how hard is it to say SHERENE" (yell this last part). It’ll work like a charm. or wear lots of clothing/name tags that say SHERENE in big letters. its like that commercial where the boss says the wrong name of the guy hes talking to even though hes in this guys cube which has his actual name on like everything.

right. i ended up never trying this techniques because lo and behold, it turns out that everyone in the office hates mike barry. even his own boss. so i really don’t care anymore.

Chapter 39: PORN.

this post is in a similar vein as the last one i did, except this is something that one should never, ever, under any circumstance do in public…

i got off work early yesterday so i decided to go to the new york library of the humanities to read for a bit before i got on my bus to go home. if you’ve never been to this particular library, it’s absolutely stunning. there are various exhibits inside, but the main site of the books and the reading hall are on the third floor. when you walk in, the most amazing smell of chocolate inexplicably wafts over you. i’m still trying to figure out where that smell comes from. this room houses all of the public computers as well as desks on which to read. i situated myself on one of the desks near the computers and sat down to continue with my book. i randomly looked up from my book and happened to glance at one of the computers in front of me where a man was hunched over and peering intently at the screen. when i made out what he was looking at, i realized it was a pair of naked breasts.

this guy was just sitting in the public library looking at porn. and this was not just your average peep show. this was porn that was full of life and girth. i scanned every face near me, hoping on all hope that someone else had noticed and was watching this man at work. i leaned back in my chair and held up the book (what book could compare to this?) i was reading so i could be at a better angle to spy on the porn spy. as i sat there, he actually pulled out his cell phone and took pictures of the graphic images on his computer!

at this point, i was basically falling out of my chair from laughing so hard, and the book decoy was completely abandoned. i knew that this would be an awesome story to tell people, so i pulled out my phone to take pictures of him at his business (ask me for them, if you could like to see).

i was determined to see his face since i could only see the back of his head and his sexual preferences. think about any stereotypical creep that you’ve dreamed up or saw in a movie and this guy was him. he sulked out of the library, hunching over and ogling at every girl who passed by.

well, there is now a guy in the city of new york who i now know nothing about except that he likes girls with big breasts.

Chapter 38: Do not disturb

we all have habits that we do when we are alone, door closed, lights dim. (ew, pervert, not that). there are certain things about who we are that we really don't want anyone else to see, especially the people we love for the fear that they won't love us anymore. some of those things may include doing your floor exercises in just your underwear or brushing your hair exactly 100 times every night or even compulsively cleaning everything in your room before you go to sleep. these little idiosyncrasies that are a part of the very personal “me” or “i” that we rarely show the outside world.

i think it’s hilarious when people forget where they are and suddenly start doing those very private habits in very public places when they think no one watching. one of my bosses closes the door and watches soccer on his computer, screaming and yelling like he’s being bludgeoned to death by someone. this is fine because sports enthusiasts can get loud, but the hilarious part about this is that he screams like a girl.

i’ve actually never met anyone who i can attribute this quality to until i met him, but he really has these high-pitched shrills that makes everyone in the office look at each other when he unleashes them. otherwise, he is actually a rather imposing man whose voice is pretty deep normally. i’m pretty sure he thinks his walls are soundproof.

as i was waiting for the bus last week, there was a woman in front of me staring intently at her ass in the reflection in the window near us. it really looked like the only things that existed for her in those minutes were her, her ass and her ass’s reflection. worst of all, she was studying the effects of different standing positions. she first leaned on one leg, then on the other, then balanced, then swung her hip out to the side, for a total of 5 minutes until someone in front of her moved and she realized where she was. she looked around sheepishly to see if anyone had noticed (i looked away at this point so she wasn’t embarrassed) and hoping no one did, she got on the bus while i started laughing hysterically about 5 people behind her.

and then, of course, there are those habits that should be reserved not only for the bedroom but for the bed. i was reading in starbucks yesterday when i saw a girl walk in wearing a dress that i’m pretty sure is supposed to be worn as a shirt. and with a shirt under it. needless to say, a lot of her skin was showing. as she sat there trying to look as demure as possible, a man came up behind her, pulled her head back, and stuck his tongue down her throat. my initial shock and worry that she would choke were gone when i realized she was, in fact, kissing back.

watching people when they are in these states reveals a lot about them: their secrets, their insecurities, their desires. this is who they are, and at what they think is their worst. but sometimes, i notice the best sides of people without them even realizing it, sides that they reserve only for themselves.

Chapter 37: When I ruled the world...

coldplay has a new album out!

yes, this is worth an entire post...

Chapter 36: Long distance

in this time when the world is literally at your fingertips and distance is basically nonexistent, why do we find distance so hard to handle?

recently, a friend's relationship ended when the guy decided that he could no longer handle the long distance, he being in the mid-west and she being on the east coast. after nearly 5 months of talking on facebook which turned into emails which turned into gchats which turned into phone calls which turned into his subsequent visit, it was over. what had been bearable up until then suddenly became not.

i was surprised by this turn of events since it seemed like everything was going really great for the both of them, and his visit had proven that they had really great chemistry. so why would he suddenly claim distance as a reason for this to not work out?

i guess it makes sense when you think of people craving human contact. i'm sure that we've all heard of those incredibly amoral studies done on orphaned babies where they proved that human touch was a key factor in sustaining the lives of those infants. those who didn't receive human touch didn't last. it's usually never enough to just talk and hear a person's voice on the phone. it also doesn't mean that you are going as far as having sex. it could be that you hate not being able to hold his hand as you walk somewhat idly down the street; touch her face and whisper in her ear that everything will be ok when you know she's upset; or even just gaze into his eyes as you lay in his arms.

and what about the potential that this long-distance thing could have turned into? is it worth to sacrifice the possibility of something really amazing in your life for the lack of touch, taste, smell, and sight? are 4 senses necessary for a relationship to last? i, myself, am not completely sure, but apparently this guy didn't think so. i wonder to myself how many others think or will think the same way.

when our own biology dictates that we need human touch, how long is it before our minds fall into the same rhythm? i'll let you know soon...

Chapter 35: Alphabet Soup.

i thought i would bring yet another comeback of my blog with the introduction of summer. for me, anyway. i started this week as a marketing intern at macmillan publishing in new york city. trust me, i have never been so excited to go to work, especially since i get to work all day long with books. what more could an english major ask for, really?

as excited as i was, i don’t think i fully comprehended the fact that i was going to be working in new york city. read: the rudest, quite possible most bizarre, city in the world. i walked out of the first past of my commute (the bus) feeling like a girl ready to take on the world. then i was hit with an awful smell and the prospect of figuring out the subway system. being in that underground sauna was like being in a different world…one where all the countries were this convoluted system of single letters and numbers that everyone seemed to understand. except me, of course. and being the rudest city in the world, don’t even think about asking someone for help. that will certainly cost you.

i walked in and looked around, looking for the r train that was supposed to take me somewhere. the best metaphor for this experience is alice chasing after the white rabbit. literally, it was me chasing after the letter r all over the tunnels. and don’t worry. Not uninterrupted. i encountered music from all over the world, including a very interestingly arranged one-man-band; hobos of all sorts; an entire hallway full of Jesus enthusiasts who tried to convert me to what i could only imagine was some sort of cult. meanwhile, the more i walked, the more i thought that i was nearing the earth’s core as the heat and humidity and steam (don’t ask me where that came from) increased.

i finally got inside the crushingly packed train where i’m fairly certain a guy was trying to grope me and the woman standing next to me. thankfully, i only had to endure 2 stops of this, and when I finally emerged from that underground hell, i actually gasped for air. except that this was also during the heat wave that hit nyc so there was no air to be had.

needless to say, i was a wreck when i walked into my first day of work, having my ass kicked by the very same city that i was so excited to work in.

oh but don’t worry, i couldn’t wait for my next day to go through it all again. after all, it is new york city. who can say no to that?

Chapter 34: Press pause.

i wish i had a remote control for life. seriously. like that movie "click" with adam sandler where he really does get a remote control for his own life. of course, he uses it for evil and ends up destroying his life when he fastforwards past what he considers slow. oh and he also breaks the thing so that he can’t control it. honestly, only in Hollywood would someone break something that allows you to actually control your life. come on…

i would want that to slow things down a bit. it’s suddenly march of my junior year of college and things are now moving so quickly that the years are blending together already. was it freshmen year spring fling when it was raining the second day so we just trouped around the quad? when was that night that night during finals when we studied together all night, just to keep those who had an exam the next day awake? and what about that time we waited until 5 in the morning for everyone to leave the actual party to have one by ourselves, just for us?

i hate that these memories, ones that i am trying desperately to hold on to, are mushing together. and now, i’m approaching my senior year of college. how do i stop time?

Chapter 33: A Love Song

i absolutely had to put this up...

A Love Song
Sherene, we are your number one fan,
You make us want to fly like Peter Pan.
You are irresistible to every man,
You make them say, “I can!”
The way we bust it out,
Leaves us without a doubt,
That we can always party it up,
Until our neighbors say “sha-up!”
We know you like to ride it dirty,
And at times can be quite flirty.
You never disappoint,
When it comes to passing the joint!
It’s good to know you’ll always be there,
Even if I get grillz you’ll still care.
You are indeed a dime that’s top of the line,
Cute face lil’ waist and a big behind!
Sherene, you know you’re our gal,
An amazing friend, lover and pal.


Much love always,
Michelle, Natasha & Piyali
January 25, 2008

Chapter 32: That oh so special someone.

'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. ~ alfred lord tennyson.

um, right. so in the aftermath of that industry inspired fiasco called valentine's day and my own heart being broken (yes, tear), i had to do a study on what exactly we define as that special someone.

1. someone with whom you can spend time with effortlessly and as cheesy as it sounds and someone who doesn't have to try to get to know you better. someone who just picks up on everything and eventually knows you really well... i’m going to be the cheesiest girlfriend ever
~single female, doesn’t like anyone

2. you (er, thanks?)
~single male, uninvolved

3. for me, as long as she makes me smile when she's not here or i'm not talking to her and the time we spend together is enough to carry me through until the next time
~male, long term relationship

4. uh, what?
~single female physically attached to a guy who is emotionally involved with her

5. i am a simple minded individual, what’s with these philosophical questions?
~single female, heart breaks: 1

ok, so 5 people doesn’t exactly constitute a study, but it works enough for me. my conclusion? we have no idea what we are looking for. the things that i left out of these findings are the frustrations that are felt by all. the ones who are single forever question their own self worth, asking themselves, “why not me?” they claim to be happy, but you always see their fallen faces when a couple walks by or a friend of theirs finds what she is looking for. how do you make the most confident, eloquent and no-nonsense girl stutter? ask her where her boyfriend is, and then why she doesn’t have one. all of her self-doubt will be poured into that single, hesitant, “um…”

oh no, all of you in relationships, don’t get all smug on me just yet. trust me, i know your secrets, what lies beneath that overly self-satisfying you feeling you get when you look at what seems to be pathetic singletons. what about those of you who are envious? the ones who look at the singles, and think, “why can’t i do that?” it’s not that you don’t love the person you’re with; you just loved your formal lifestyle a little more. and then what about all those questions you have? “why is he taking so long to respond to my texts? why did she completely blow me off? who is that person he’s talking to? what is she doing on that girls’ night out with her single friends who don’t like me very much to begin with?” those questions that you know you can’t exactly ask out loud since you are supposed to appear like you trust the other person. but it’s not the other person you don’t trust, it’s everyone else. or so you say.

we spend so much of our time worrying about this perfect person who will be such a complement to us. but aren’t i doing ok on my own right now? i have the most amazing friends in the world, experiences that i don’t regret for a second, and a life that is making me truly be the person that i want to be. having a someone would only add to who i am, not make me.

right? i suppose this is the logical way to look at things from a heart broken point-of-view. just wait until i get that boyfriend i can’t stop writing about.

Chapter 31: Lent and alcohol.

this year, for lent, i decided to give up alcohol.

ok, i need to preface this statement with another: i am not an alcoholic. not yet, anyway. this was merely an exercise in self control. besides, with midterms and finals going on during lent, plus other things that needed my constant and preferably sober attention, i figured that i could less haziness in my life. plus, i figured that i wouldn't be going to that many parties and whatnot anyway, so the temptation wouldn't be there.

do you have any idea how much alcohol is put in front of a college student every week? a lot, let me tell you. despite me thinking that this would a slow time in terms of the partying, oh no. not only was this the time of your average, impromptu "no-one's-really-do-anything-tonight-so-let's-all-be-in-the-same-place-at-the-same-time-with-music-on" parties, but my friends and i have recently started celebrating every single birthday by going to a byo restaurant. this means at least 1 byo every 2 weeks or so because birthday's definitely don't come in waves; they come in once a week increments.

despite all of this, i was actually doing pretty well... for the first four days. then, one of my absolute best friends' 21st birthday came about. mind you, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity because her birthday always falls during spring break. this year, the one year i decide to give up alcohol and she turns 21, the stars aligned to have her birthday fall on the day before we all left for break. what else could i do but raise my margarita (with tequila) to toast to her auspicious day?

i failed. quickly and soundly. i'm fairly certain that God wanted me to fail otherwise all these events falling oh so perfectly would have never happened in any other year. thankfully, i also believe in a God whose known for His forgiveness.

...if i ever decide to give up alcohol again, remind me of this debacle, if i don't remember it already. and here's to a few more hazy nights and hung over mornings.

Chapter 30: Innocence.

haddonfield, nj is a perfect little suburban town. it has a main street, a downtown, one high school, one middle school, and a dinosaur in its main square named "haddy." i went there the other day for a project i had to do for my independent study.

it was amazing to see innocence in such a pure form. i got off the train, and as i walked through the town to get to where i had to go, i fell in step behind a group of middle school boys on their way home from school. the first thing i noticed was the lack of brands on their clothes. everything about them - jeans, sweaters, bookbags, jackets – lacked that branded quality that is so apparent in cities. i can always tells wear someone’s shoes are from or purse or even which version of the ipod someone’s listening to. this could be attributed to the fact that i’m just not brand savvy when it comes to what middle school boys are wearing these days, but i couldn’t even seen an image to be able to reference anything.

the most startling thing about these boys, though? the way they looked at me…with fear. granted, at 5’5”, i don’t pose quite an intimidating figure, as far as i can tell. i could only guess that it was my dark makeup and long dark coat (yes, i wear mostly dark colors) that turned me into something that they had never seen before, and therefore viewed with suspicion. after all, we fear what we don’t know, right?

Chapter 29: Middle Child Syndrome.

being the psychology major that i am, i often find it difficult to resist the urge of diagnosing the people around me with the disorders i learned that day in class. i have found a depression, narcissism, and even the beginning forms of schizophrenia in my observations. despite being one of the initial things that psychology professors say when you get to class, i still find all these disorders around me.

another thing i find myself doing is inventing disorders that have yet to be discovered. my pride and glory has been the one that i have dubbed “middle child syndrome.” i have been preparing for the presentation of this syndrome to the american psychologists association since the age of 3. the age i myself became a middle child.

this is really one of the most interesting social experiences to have because you get to experience two disparate worlds: that of being the older sibling and that of being the younger one. and as much as you may think there are perks, there are also some pretty heavy downfalls, as well. for example, i have never done anything new because my older sister did it first and i just couldn't pull it off as cute as my little brother could. i got into trouble for the mistakes i made whereas my older sister made those mistakes because she had no one to show her the way and i had to learn from her experiences. my little brother was just a baby and babies are allowed to make mistakes.

i do get to see the differences, though. i understand why younger siblings don't always take advice, but i know how important it is to give it when you can. i can see the fair and the unfair in why the older one or the younger one gets to do something.

i guess this kind of makes me perpetually inadequate.

Chapter 28: Good, bad, or in between.

finals are an interesting time in the career of college students. it’s kind of like being tripped out for at least 2 weeks, and it’s ok because no one questions why you suddenly start laughing hysterically or why you’ve been binge eating at 3 in the morning. most of all, you are excused for saying the most outrageous comments and for speaking without thinking. after all, how are you expected to think more beyond the rigors of academic life to check that you are being a polite person?

this past finals seasons, my roommates and i had a very interesting conversation. it started out with how important grades are to each of us, and it naturally turned to sex. the question that was raised was would each of us be willing to sleep with a professor to get a good grade. surprising, some of us (not saying who) said that we would be fine with it. this was followed by would you sleep with older men to would you sleep around casually to would you sleep with someone knowing that you are the other woman and that he is in a committed relationship.

on first glance, one would assume that the answers to these questions would be automatic no's. after all, social convention attempts to teach all young girls that these are not acceptable behaviors. yet, what interested me the most was that the answers to most of these questions were "it depends." the situation, circumstances, the state of mind that each person is in, etc. it was never a concrete yes or no.

we've always been taught to be strong in our convictions and to take a stand if what we believe has been questioned. but what do we believe? how many times can we honestly say that we completely believe in one idea or the other? is there any way to classify something as completely good or bad when there are so many what if's in this world?

this doesn't make me doubt anything i believe in, but i always find that it's important to understand that the opposite of what i believe is not the enemy or the wrong. it's just a difference, something that i should keep an open mind to if i really want to learn something new now and then. it's not a lack of faith in one's own convictions that i find faulty with others; it's the presumption that what one things is so completely correct that they just can't be wrong. and these are the people who seem to be wrong the most.

Chapter 27: Point of view.

there are have been countless songs and poems and ballads and stories and love notes written to eyes. the ever present window to one's soul, another person's escape, a wide expanse in which to get lost in. we choose to describe how deep eyes can be, all the while forgetting how truly limiting they are to each of us.i don't mean that the sense of sight is what limits us, but the fact that we all only see the world through one set of eyes. our own. and no one else's.

the very thing that is one of man's greatest attributes has contributed many times as his greatest downfall: the loss of perspective. or maybe the idea of never having it at all. we are so focused on the world as we see it from behind our own eyes that we forget the almost 7 billion other sets of eyes who are peering back at us. and majority of those eyes are one's that we will never see in our lifetimes.

i never realized this issue until i started taking a class called perception. it has actually been proven that our minds will concoct the world into a form that we can recognize for our own well-being and comfort. that our minds have the power to change reality into something that we like a little better. granted, this doesn't mean that our minds will tell us it's still night when it's time to get up in the morning, but the effects are there in the small things that surround us.

if our own minds can change things, what is reality? is it the world as i see it, or the world as the person right next to me sees it? or the person next to him? next to her? next to them? it's not just that we take the gift of vision for granted, but we seem to also abuse it at times. along with sight, we have been given the power of understanding. it's up to us to remember that one does not go without the other.