On Being a Vault

Shhhh, Don't Tell Anyone!

When it comes to keeping secrets, there are the "vaults" and the "vault-nots." The latter group (within which my entire family may or may not be included), whose reputations typically precede them, tend to tightly cross fingers behind untrustworthy backs while swearing on great grandmother's aunt's cousin's brother's graves to never tell the entrusted information to a single soul. And yet secrets are divulged as quickly as promises are broken, because to share a secret is to share a part of yourself that is bursting at the seams or toppling off your shoulders, regardless of whether the weight is eventually passed on, and on, and on. Enjoy!

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On Shutting a Book By Its Cover

The End.

This past winter and spring, I finally delved into a novel I'd been recommended for nearly ten years by various (fairly important) people in my life. After I got over the 400+ page intimidation factor in a technological climate where our attention spans last mere seconds, I couldn't put the novel down. The characters, love stories, tragedies, comic reliefs, and historical anecdotes all intertwined so beautifully that I could hardly believe I'd waited so long to read it. And when the end was finally near (after about six months of perpetually prompting my damaged ability to focus), I eagerly anticipated those final moments that come along with reading any three-dimensional book with actual pages: the plot resolutions, the deaths, the ambiguous fates, and - at the very last moment - the closing of the book's cover, often accompanied by a peaceful silence in a crowded room. Enjoy!

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On Why I Started This Blog

23 April 2010.

When I started this blog thirteen months ago, my intent was to share with family, friends, and (hopefully) strangers articles I came across (on a daily basis) that captured aspects of our lives (and the world around us) that we rarely articulate yet relate to in extra-ordinary ways. In essence, we are reading about our own experiences through the lens of other(writer)s, as we relate (so often) to lost and found friendships and lovers, to successes and failures in the work place and home life, to the gripes we wake up to and the gratitude we fall asleep to, and to our own observations about how and why we exist in the universe. To be human is a gift to contend with while simultaneously surrendering to, and most definitely worth writing (and reading) about, specifically on Mondays through Friday. Enjoy!

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On Prompt Replies

Draft, Star, and Send.

We type, we send, we wait, and then we check, and check, and check - again, and again, and again - for the email response that should only take (according to our impatient technological clocks) less than the time it took us to type the initial email in the first place. And when it doesn't, we panic, and stew, and check, and wait, and fantasize about all the inexcusable reasons the email has yet to arrive, until we remember the starred email from the other day, sitting in our draft box, waiting to be sent, while we conjure up excuses for our panicking, checking, stewing friend/sibling/mother/colleague, who is currently fantasizing about this very moment (in real time) and waiting for our own inexcusable reasons to show up in their inbox. Until, that is, they remember to forget that email they never sent. Enjoy!

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On Misery Loving Company

In Sickness & In Health.

Moonlit walks on tropical islands and self-timed portraits next to neighborhood bakeries doth a typical facebook album make, but it's the not-so-picturesque moments in between--when fevers flare and tissues boxes empty--where the real love stories unfold. Teas brew, hands hold, and germs exchange while the seeds of future care-taking are unnoticeably planted in preparation for eventual shout-outs in promising (wedding) vows. Enjoy!

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On Blasts from the Past

Wham! Bam! Pow!

Regardless of how much time has passed or distance has ensued, virtual ghosts of past remembrances -- ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends, ex-best friends and arch-enemies -- are consistently lurking in the internet shadows, waiting to strike when least expected. Fumbled words and perfunctory gestures of street-corner reunions and postmortem sleepovers are replaced by facebook album stalking and wall-posting obsessions, as birthday parties (with new lovers) and world travels (with nameless strangers) are admired and detested simultaneously from afar. Enjoy!

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On Social (Anti-)Anxiety

"Hip-Pocket Games."

At summer camp the counselors called them "hip pocket games" because they were beckoned at a moment's notice - aka out of one's hip pocket - on a rainy afternoon or in between swim classes, and would provide an hour's worth of entertainment without actually needing any arts & crafts materials or sporting equipment. One-liners instigated intense debates over racy issues, probing questions revealed otherwise well-kept secrets, and complicated hand-games kept participants scratching their heads well past bedtime. Enjoy!

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On Careful Decisions

Baby Names.

Take it from someone whose last name is repeated, spelled out, and sounded out on a daily basis, that even the most common names cannot escape the wrath of unfunny peers whose name-rhyming jokes know no bounds. (E-I-N-S-T-E-I-N.) No, I'm not related. Yes, I'm really smart. Don't worry, lots of people don't know how to spell it. Sure, you're the first to ask. Of course, I'll name my child Albert after my father/grandfather/brother/cousin/uncle/whoever-you-want-it-to-be-just-please-give-me-my-receipt-so-I-can-get-back-to-my-day! (Enjoy.)

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On True or False?

Reading Between the Words

As the telltale signs of conclusive dishonesty - averted eye contact, sweaty palms, quivering lips - hide behind the shield of anonymity - the cell phone text - we're left to decipher truths from lies using intuition, faith, and morality. Messages are interpreted with false confidence and inaccuracy as texters carefully craft convincing sweet-nothings to keep their audiences (from) guessing. Enjoy!

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On Thelma & Louise

Leap, and the net will appear. -- John Burroughs

To leap is to abandon all reservations about the reliability of the security net that wasn't a guarantee in the first place. Eyes closed and lungs filled to capacity, anything goes on the other side of the cliff called Life, as jumps over the edge are forced upon the Thelma's and Louise's alike, discriminating against no one and making adults out of children, and their children, and their children's children. Enjoy!

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On Vacation

Blog/ger is on vacation and will (both) resume on Monday, July 18th.

On Young Love

Too Little, Too Early.

The small group of successful college couples - who survived the dorm room gossip mill and pre-sunrise, alcohol-induced hook-ups (commonly associated with worn-out beer goggles) - can likely be counted on less than one hand, most of whom (eventually) coasted down the marital walk-of-fame. The rest of us chose the path more-often taken - the infamous walk-of-shame - stumbling through campus hangovers wondering if and when we'd find that special someone or, minimally, our student ID cards. Enjoy!

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On Sibling Civility

Photo Credit: E=MC2 Sisters

Some siblings are meant to pull each other's hair out, destroy each other's toys, borrow clothes without asking, and cry on command (if it gets the other grounded). Until the moment when civility replaces rivalry, and sharing actually means caring, and getting grounded is way more fun together than apart. And so competitions to be the favorite/smartest/funniest/kindest kid in the household are still had, only now it's through the protective glare of a sibling who's rooting for the other as much as themself. Enjoy!


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On the Deep Blue Sea

Sailing Through Sailing.

Last summer, I surprised my best friend with a sailing lesson on the Hudson, based mostly on fond memories of appreciating sailboats from afar - from California beaches, Brooklyn seashores, and walks along the West Side Highway. Within minutes of the instructor's arrival, my appreciation vanished. The entirety of the lesson was spent rushing from bow to stern to ensure the boat did not tip and no one was injured, as we frantically follow the plethora of Captain's orders in what felt like like a life or death situation (or at least fairly stressful). Relieved when it was over, I tacitly began to plan next year's surprise: a sailboat-themed picnic on the safety of a sandy beach in Coney Island. Enjoy!

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On the Fork in the Road

Choosing a Different Path.

When the pulse of our (daily) routines syncs together with the flutter of our eyelids and the beat of our temporal lobe, the resulting itch to hop in a car and abandon familiarity, to chop off our locks and betray recognition, to purge our relationships and defy our humble pasts, weighs on our heavy shoulders with the strength of a thousand pound brick. Whether we indulge the gnawing urge or ignore it defines the haves from the have-nots, the movers from the shakers, the majority of us from everybody else, as we

watch from afar
the small handful of leaps
across the different paths
on other people's roads.

(Enjoy.)

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On Struggling with the Basics

Follow the Dotted Line.

Years of refrigerator-bound coloring book mediocrity combined with paint-by-number masterpiece-impersonators designed for the artistic and mathematically disinclined (the latter of which I was not), did little to prepare me for the high school and college-level drawing classes that bruised my ego as much as the patiently-posing fruit-in-the-bowl. As I marveled at the effortless glide of my classmates' graphite drawing tools that magically produced praiseworthy-replicas of the snack that sat before us, I begrudgingly smudged poorly-conceived shadows on my otherwise lifeless plums and longed for the overly-generous praise of my parents. Enjoy!

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On i-Love

Title Page Romance.

Watching strangers on subwaycars/streetcorners/parkbenches/bookstorelines engrossed in novels that once changed our lives (for the better) induces fantasies of lifelong companionship (friendship or otherwise) based on inevitably ill-presumed passion for (that particular) written word. And yet with the mere mention of certain authors who induce heart palpitations and sweaty palms, it's not surprising for symptoms of admiration to be confused with unrequited lust, which is exactly why literature is so profoundly necessary-- to transport us from the moment we're actually in to the moment we want to be in for no reason other than it can. Enjoy!

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On First Impressions

Rainbows and Unicorns.

Even when our initial instincts prove right, first impressions are often a far cry from the real deal. Second (third, fourth, and fifth) encounters eventually reveal idiosyncratic bathroom habits and unusual dvd collections as commonalities are forged and family trees dissected, often on weeknights over beers in dark pubs. And before you know it, sentences are being completed with occasional reflections on the first impressions that unexpectedly entwined two originally uncrossed paths. Enjoy!

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On Savoring the Memories

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days.

The most vivid memories of my last grandparent - who passed away just a few short months ago - are not only of the all too familiar visits to the old age home (where her roommates always seemed significantly worse off), but also of the the many celebrations where extended family members gathered multiple times per year for Passover Seders, multi-birthday birthday parties, warm weather, and group sleepovers, and rubber band-encased door knobs led to sugar-coated cereal boxes and chocolate-covered donuts. Enjoy!

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On 3-Day Weekends

Happy July 4th.

On Happy Birthday(s)

(To You.)

Whether we dread or invite the annual holiday devoted to the existence of our lives, it's nearly inevitable to feel pangs of excitement as facebook walls fill with affectionate adulations, and happy birthday wishes replace the monotony of our daily routines. Until the clock strikes midnight and we return to the 364 days of finding (un)clever ways to celebrate the lives of everyone else we've ever known, and belated birthday wishes feel one day too late. Enjoy!

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