Forever in My Heart

Sometimes I wish I wasn't so sentimental. I wish I didn't remember every birthday, anniversary. Sometimes, it's good to remember. Sometimes, you wish you could forget.

Today, despite the pain, I'm glad I remember, and I know that I will never forget. There's nothing more that I could say today except that I miss my dearest mom and grandma more than any words could ever express. It's an interesting coincidence that 6 months after my mom is gone would have been my grandma's 86th birthday.

LI 04/19/51-08/18/09
ZI 02/18/24-07/08/08

"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." -The Wonder Years











"I pray you can see me now and be proud of what I have become because of your example, but most of all I thank you because you loved me so much."

Saturday Morning Commute

Q train to DeKalb, R to Canal because it doesn't make it's usual stops and is running over the Manhattan Bridge (and they don't tell you this on Atlantic), long walk to downtown 6 from last car to front of platform, downtown 6 isn't running, longest crossover to uptown 6 over and down multiple flights of stairs (all in four inch heels), 14th street to Wall Street wait time for downtown 4 - 15 min, destination WORK. Caffeine intake zero, frustration at all time high, directions
to tourists 3, hours of sleep 5.5! MTA FAIL!!!

Total travel time 2 hrs, immeasurable nerves complete with lack of desire to work on a Saturday to begin with.

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Sent from my mobile device

Сильная Женщина

Speaking of music, strength and all other wonderful things, made me think of this song,



I wrote this, or rather embedded this and remembered how I used to be teased as a kid and used to come home in tears because someone called me Alla Pugacheva. The other day my friend who was recently at a Lady Gaga concert told me that Lady Gaga reminded her of me - creative and had a way with people. I think it was a very big compliment. But I am me.

. . . tired of being strong, крикни а в ответ тишина . . .

The Sound of Music

Music as sacrifice – I don’t think that’s a very novel idea. Yet, it’s something I haven’t thought a lot about in the past. By Jewish tradition, you’re not supposed to dance or listen to music while you’re in mourning. As I type this, a line from an old comedy routine at the Comedy Cellar just seems fitting, “I too am a Jew, but I’m not as Jew as you.” That aside, music was never a huge part of my life, or so I thought. I’m tone deaf. I have two left feet. Our wedding dance was a disaster, which thankfully was edited pretty well. Since August 18, I haven’t (intentionally) listened to music, but I don’t live in a box and every time you walk into a store or see a movie or go to a party, you hear music. Sometimes you can’t help but tap your foot to the beat, but now I’m very conscious of it. This awareness is very strange, especially at a party when you have to explain yourself, since people don’t know, don’t understand or simply don’t care. We have at least two weddings to attend early this summer of very close friends. I won’t be dancing and I am not sure what will feel more strange – not dancing, or dancing.

I don’t have a favorite artist, or even a favorite song really. I always listened to whatever was playing on the radio, popular at the time or that my friends made me listen to. I always liked songs with meaning. Whether it was an old Alla Pugacheva song or a Nautilus Pompilius ballad, or some pop trash that had relatable appeal, I always paid more attention to the lyrics than to the music. While we were packing and moving “Painted Black” was whirling in my head and while writing my last post, all I could think about was “Proschay Lumibiy Gorod.” Maybe music is a bigger part of my life than I thought. There’s different music – happy music and sad music. Music is a means of artistic expression and usually the best art comes out of bad emotion. When you’re happy, you find better things to do with your time then compose, draw, write.

Back to work.

21 Grams

How many lives do we live? How many times do we die? They say we all lose 21 grams... at the exact moment of our death. Everyone. And how much fits into 21 grams? How much is lost? When do we lose 21 grams? How much goes with them? How much is gained? How much is gained? Twenty-one grams. The weight of a stack of five nickels. The weight of a hummingbird. A chocolate bar. How much did 21 grams weigh?

-Paul Rivers, 21 Grams