What is it about that sweet nectar, an ill-reputed yet adored carbohydrate named sugar, that gets our memories popping, mouths watering, and thighs growing?  I still reluctantly walk down the cereal aisle, eyeing those sugary sheets of pulverized psuedo-fruits, aptly called fruit roll-ups, convincing myself each time that nothing organic tastes that good.  And who doesn't have fond memories of those tubes of paper straws filled with colored crystals?   Whoever invented those instant diabetes must be in the hate prayers of every mother of an ADHD child.  But my favorite sweet indulgence would have to be mounds of minted ice dotted with chips of chocolate.  Nothing like of bowl of that after a long day. I can't believe I just wrote an ode to the very thing that I refuse to put in my coffee in the morning, replacing it instead with it's yellow-packaged, guiltless twin.  

The snow we've been getting in DC has been crazy.  Over 2 feet and now they're calling for another 10-12 nches!  So what do you do when you continually get snowed in with limited resources and little much else to do than watch reality shows and old movies? Well once you've cooked all the meals you can with whatever's in your cupboard, you gotta think up something more creative to keep you sane and busy.  What did they do before Facebook, Dish network, and video games?  Sitting around the fireplace, drinking Splenda-infused hot chocolate, and singing Kumbaya is one option. A movie marathon is another.  Who doesn't love Back to the Future I, II,and III?  Plus I find something new everytime I watch them.  Winter cleaning is always a productive solution to imminent hibernation, and I do need a serious wardrobe downsizing.  The neighbors have already ripped off the lid of their garbage cans to sled down the snow berms, or accumulated snow left from snow plow removal.  That's an option.  Hmmm, maybe I do have plenty of things to keep me busy.  All I really need, then, is a bag of ice salt to prevent a repeat of Sunday's chiropractic icecapade on my front entrance.  Happy Hibernation!

Every night I pray for the knowledge and strength to be able to tell the right decisions from the wrong.  We are bombarded with so many opportunities, and we don't even know it half the time.  We have to figure what path to take, which door to walk through, and what people to network with.  But how do you know.  Do we use instinct, logic, or is it just plain old luck?  Maybe all three.  It's scary to think that you might make the wrong decision, but maybe that's just life.   You gotta take as many opportunities as you can because you never know when one of them might change your life.  Just don't waste all your money on the lottery.

As I made my way down the streets of downtown DC, something particularly odd struck me. 

And yet when I looked closer, it wasn't odd at all, but actually very normal and very common. 

It would actually be odd if I didn't see what I saw.  But twenty years ago I wouldn't have seen what I saw. 

And what I saw were massive amounts of people strolling down beautiful boulevards, in perfect weather, hypnotized by a numbing infatuation with technology.

Yes, I am talking about the cell phone.  The magical, addictive world of constant communication; who can resisit?  In this decade it has now become completely normal to talk to yourself as you drive your car,  walk down the street, or walk your dog, to the delight or fright of some unexpecting onlookers.  It's become part of life, and it doesn't seem to be going away any time soon.

But it becomes quite humorous when on the same intersection I see pedestrians in all four corners of the crosswalk buzzing away on their cell phones, completely oblivious to their surrroundings, onlookers, and even moving vehicles.  I am not one to criticize of course because i have been victim to the emergency phone call about which red dress to buy for the Friday night outing, as I'm walking my dog through a busy intersection.  And yes, this usually turns into the cell phone becoming glued to my ear for the rest of walk, degrading my dog's exercise break to a hurried jog so as to get back home and check my facebook page. So, I am the last one to talk.

But the reason I am talking and bringing up this issue is to address the reason why we have to keep our phones glued to our ears, particularly when we are alone.  Is it easier to avoid eye contact, interaction, and awkwardeness if we look too busy to engage with other people due to a phone call.  It seems more and more the case to me.  We  sometimes use our technology as an excuse to avoid human interaction, and this very well could be completely subconcious so we don't know we're doing it.  Maybe my absentmindedness comes in handy here as many times as I've forgotten my phone at home, only to be forced to make it through the day without my umblical cord.  

I love this city.  The sights, the smells, the sounds, the soul of the people that keep it beating day in and day out.  I could totally live there, walking up and down Park Avenue, grapping a cup of coffee from a corner cafe, walking my chihuahua along the waterfront, taking a stroll in Greenwich village, window shopping for vintage treasures. It's endless and beautiful and yet simple and edgy.  That's New York for you. Some people can't handle it and I totally understand. It depends on your perspective. It can be smelly and dirty, mean and sharp, annoying and tiring. But that's part of it's charm. The fact that it's a melange of so many angles, people, cultures, ideas, makes it the crossroads of the country and the world. You really feel like it's happening here, and if you batt your eyelashes just so, they can feel the breeze on the other side of the world.  That's what New York does to you. Hate it or love it, it seeps into your veins and refuses to budge from your essence.  It calls you back, like an obsessed lover refusing to go away regardless of your feelings.  Take me as I am, it tells you.  You have to if you want me.  And you do.

The last thing I usually think about when I'm sitting in my daily hour of traffic is how I would answer the girl who is being a complete witch to me for absolutely no reason. 

And yet that's exactly what I was doing today after my recent confrontation with a snarling, innocent-looking, know-it-all, out to rid the world of manners and smiles.  There she sat across from me, carefully glaring at my naive smile as I greeted the new faces at an annual gathering she had been to before. 

Ok, so you know everyone and everything, get over it.   What is it about me kindly greeting everyone and asking about their occupation that makes you frown?  Is it in your habit to naturally make those around you feel awkward and uncomfortable. Or are you just trying to break the world record for longest held death-stare? 

Maybe it's just me.  I tend to be overly sensitive and react to people's possibly innocent outward emotions, assuming there is a problem, or that I had just said something entirely inappropriate.  I tend to be a little hard on myself.   But even assuming the worst, why is it so hard to find a soul who only naturally reaches out their hand to grab yours and lead you to your best self?  I can't help the tendency to constantly do this myself to others, which consistently puts me in the unagreeable position of being taken advantage of.   The emotional consequences of too much kindness can be pretty damaging to one's optimisic view of the human race.

But back to the point.  One thing that never ceases to tighten its grip around my heart is the unfeeling desire for another person to call out your lack of knowledge on a particular subject halfway through a flowing conversation.  And I mean dead stop in the middle of a sentence after minutes of me kindly nodding in agreement, to abruptly ask me if I know the specific meaning of whatever subject or word in question.  Way to make a newcomer feel nice and squishy inside.  The day that I learn to do this without so much as a thought of compassion is the day you find me beating up all the homeless for taking up the good seats in a park on a nice day.

                                                             picture courtesy of this site

The problem with binge drinking in college isn't the fact that it's a forbidden fruit and so teens engage in the behavior out of rebellion.  It's the fact that it has become so part and parcel of youth culture that to refuse it is to in a sense deny your youth.  Resisting the urge to engage in heavy drinking and partying is impossible if we don't change our conception of alcohol.  It is cool to drink, just as it was cool to smoke pre-1970's.  Although both are bad for our health, alcohol seems to fly under our health radar.  We must change as a society the way we view alcohol.  We must change our perception of it as a cool, fun, and attractive substance that is connected to confidence, popularity, and self-esteem.  This is one of the most significant elements of the problem with binge drinking on college campuses.  It is the fundamental definition of what it means to drink that needs to be changed so that teens perception of the substance when entering college will guide them towards logic and moderation, rather than excess and recklessness.  

Sometimes you push something away because you love it too much to keep it close to you.  And as we go through life we think that'd we'd get better at doing this, but it only gets harder, and we become more stubborn and doubtful, making excuses along the way until weve gotten so far that you can't recognize what you started out with.  But then we awake from a numbing slumber to realize that where we are isn't actually where we originally thought we would be.  So we push away the fear, the sadness, and we do what we know is right, what is better for us and what is better for what we push away.  And even though it's a terrible feeling, a feeling so strong that you begin to doubt the decision that you had struggled to make, you push yourself through the melancholy fog and hope to break through to the other side.

Or maybe I made the wrong decision.

Crap.

BEFORE GOOGLE:

 AFTER GOOGLE:

Each day as I sit and work on researching and writing my reports at work, I find myself unpredictably gravatating towards that magical realm we call "The Google".  Space and time ceases to exist in this fantastical world where dreams come true and we all are virtually endowed with a temporary advanced degree.   Many studies have been done as to the effect of this type of superficial learning apparatus.  Does this tool push our society to the brink of epistemical paralysis or is it a natural progression in our intellectual evolution?

Because what is The Google good for anyway? 

How is gum made?   Why do birds sing?  What does E=MC² equal?   No question or request, trite or silly,  complex or intricate, can angry or repel the great Google.    Nothing beyond its grasp and so unforgiving in its scrutiny of us, but so bountiful are its fruits.  For we have become an even greater and more superior being due to the powers it so kindly bestowed upon us.  Those days of yesteryear, where embarassing pauses lingered after a series of trivial facts spewed out of a know-it-all collegue's mouth have now been replaced with instant knowledge of inconsequential details at the tips of our fingertips.  Who needs Harvard when we have now officially become graduates of The School of Google?   Congratulations fellow Googlians.