Argo Screw Yourself, or Why I Hate the Oscar's

Recently, the Huffington Post put this Oscar Prediction Dashboard up on there website, calming that they "crunched the sats on every Oscar nominee for the past 30 years to produce a scientific metric" in order for them to predict the winners of this years Academy Awards. In the data tables they give you "pertinent" info such as box office gross with a line graph that shows incremental increases during the films time in theaters; the audience rating average, which are based on average Rotten Tomatoes user reviews; critical rating average, which are based on Metacritic critic reviews, other awards the film has garnered; total nominations the film has received in other categories and lastly, the overall chance of winning.

Notice that I put the word pertinent in quotations above (feel free to re-read the sentence and perform air quotes for full effect). I say that because, if their data is accurate, it doesn't seem to make a difference what the film has accomplished, the Academy will play favorites and pick who they want to win anyway.

Case in point, Argo. Looking at the data it has an enormously high odds of winning Best Picture. The only other film that is close to winning is Lincoln and it has doesn't even have half a chance that Argo has, even though it's stacked with other nominations and shares the same critical rating.

 Looking at the ratings makes things even more confusing. Argo doesn't have the highest ratings for any of the review categories. Zero Dark Thirty has an impressive 95 critical rating whereas Django Unchained's audience rating is 94. While being favorably reviewed, both films share nearly the same abysmal odds of winning.

 Django itself is a mystery in that it is the highest grossing film, has the highest audience rating and shares almost as many nominations as Argo. The only thing it doesn't have is awards from other ceremonies. The momentum from the Golden Globes and the SAG awards seems to be the only thing carrying it. Although Zero Dark Thirty won big at the Golden Globes as well but has (almost literally) zero chance of winning. I think it's just being punished for shoving our nose in the crap from the last presidential administration. 

I shouldn't care about awards, but I inevitably do. And I shouldn't let them get me flustered, but that's the position I find myself in. Year after year, I watch these proceedings in dismay as the inexplicable becomes reality and films that sometimes have no business even being nominated somehow winning. But recently, I had an epiphany, I finally realized why I hate the Oscar's so much: it makes me hate good movies.

Let's go back to Argo for a moment. I'll give you a short paraphrase of my reaction of the movie after a friend and I saw it, "That movie was awesome!" And yes, it was awesome, but it was a popcorn flick. It was basically The Avengers for middle-aged adults. It was suspenseful and gripping yes, but I didn't find the directing very memorable and Afleck's acting was mildly better than a cardboard cutout of him would have been. But I ended up liking it despite all of that.

Fast forward to award season. Argo is picking up every award it can, Oscar buzz is surrounding good but completely average films like Silver Linings Playbook and truly great films of artistic fortitude like Zero Dark Thirty and Amour are being shut out into the late winter cold and I find myself hating the only thing that I can blame, movies like Argo.

But I shouldn't hate Argo or The Artist or even The King's Speech. They are all terrific films that were fulfilling and skillfully executed. And then I see films that I believe merit high honor for their artistic achievement, films like The Tree of Life and The Master, get ignored and then I get mad. I get mad at the movies that are taking the spotlight away from much better films. I get mad at the Academy for not seeing the greatness in those movies. I muse, wondering if they even saw the same film as me and proclaim that, "they just don't get it!"

I have to realize that the Oscar's aren't about the artistic merit that went into producing an artistic work, it's all about the back-scratching and fist bumping. It's about the Red Carpet, the dresses and the overwrought pageantry of a nearly century long affair. When I accept that long-standing tradition has made the Academy Awards old and tired, I tend to hate it less. It's just like your senile old grandfather who just doesn't know any better. In time, maybe my feelings about the Oscar's will change. That is, until the 24th of this month when Jessica Chastain will loose out on another Oscar and I will have flipped a desk in rage.

Back to School

This week I found myself back at school for the first time in years. I finally have my head on straight with a career in mind that I would both enjoy and that would pay me money (i.e. enough money) for doing it. I'm in a Digital Media program and so I will learn useful things such as programming for the web, using design software and directing audio and visual projects. Yeah, it's pretty awesome. I actually love going to class cause it feels very purposeful and relevant. That "I'm actually going to use this stuff in real life" mentality really works and goes a long way to make you pay attention in class.

This whole school thing actually makes me excited about this up coming year. Last year was a mixed bag, but I must be honest that looking back doesn't fill me rainbows and sunshine like some have (oh 2009, you were so terrific! Why did you only have to be 365 days long?). But now I have reason to change, reason to get out of bed in the morning and reason that 2013 will be one of the best years in my life.

People that know me well know that I have gone on record with the opinion of not being able to stand the New Year Holiday. This is because it is cold, tv sucks and I usually don't have anyone to spend it with when it comes around. I noticed that when last year was winding down, I didn't have that feeling of impending dread that comes with the assumption that this next crappy year is going to be just like the last crappy year. Maybe I had finally found my calling, or maybe I finally discovered the meaning of the New Year's Resolution.

Or maybe the meaning is in the words, "assumption." All this time I was assuming that each year would be the same. Hope in spite of assuming counts for nothing and everyone knows what assuming gets us. I was expecting each year to be basically the same as the last and I got exactly what I was looking for, the same thing. By having something to live for, I will find the great year that is coming to pass right now.

If you're dreading 2013, find something that will change your life so much as eliminate the slightest possibility that it will be the same as last year. I don't know what that might be, but you'll have to find that out for yourself anyway. If I tell you what it is, you'll never be inspired to do it.

Thanks for reading. I hope this hasn't been to "self-helpy" for you. If it has , yell at me in the comments section.

Gift From the Soda Gods

I was lunching at Five Guys today, the home of incredible burgers and huge amounts of fries.  I went with a small cheeseburger (one patty is good enough for me) with all the trimmings which later turned out to be amazing. As I was waiting on my food I went to get my drink and found this replacing the usual fountains:

'Oh wow', I said, 'what a cool product.'  It looks so shiny and you get a few more options than normal.  I touched the Coke button to go for normal Coke and that's when my surprise overtook me that I literally gasped.  After you choose a drink option it brings you to a new screen that gives you more options based on the drink you chose.  Want a raspberry Coke?  What about a peach Sprite, grape Mello Yellow or even a strawberry Fanta?  You can fill your cup with any of these options.  It can even give you a vanilla Barq's root beer and yes, it is everything you would imagine it would be.

This is Coke's flagship soda fountain named "Coca-Cola Freestyle" and is designed to give you over 125 drink combinations.  As a self-proclaimed soda addict, I was so mesmerized by the selection that i wanted to spend the rest of the day sipping the different variations.  I had to get my vanilla cola fix because it's been forever since I've had an official Vanilla Coke but I will be back soon to try out some more adventurous flavors. 

Man, I'm getting awful thirsty thinking about all the amazing drinks that can be had.  I'm gonna track something down...

This guy has a cool site talking about it as well.

Square One

I was perusing my notebook a few days ago and happened on an entry dated on the 1st of January.  Penned in blue ink it read, "Dear 2012, I'm gonna kick your ass."  I chuckled at the brazen optimism but then felt the melancholy for a forgotten thought and an unrealized goal.  Because as of yet, no part of 2012's ass has been kicked, much the opposite in fact.

It was just a couple of weeks ago that I was let go from my job of less than one year.  The reasons why I won't get into, but I will say that at the very end it did feel very mutual.  Sometimes things aren't always what they seem and a good thing doesn't always stay.  What's important is to know is that there are no guarantees and you should always know where the exits are at all times.

So this puts me back at square one in terms of life goals and aspirations.  I still have over a month left of the year, so my earlier declaration from before can still be accomplished, but the chances of this happening are very remote.  Instead, I should change my resolve to, "Dear 2012, I won't let you have the best of me."  This goal is much more manageable.

I've had some time to distance myself from the situation and in that time I've found some closure and acceptance.  If you are wondering if I've been going to any 12 step programs or reading up on the stages of grief, the answer is no.  I've just realized that distance can help you see things more clearly than before.  The situation I was in wasn't a change, it was just a continuation of several years of stress and monotony that I dealt with in my previous position.  It wasn't the same but it was far from different.

I'm staying positive which is the best thing I can do right now.  I think getting fired was a fantastic thing that  happened.  I have more time to focus on my writing which has suffered as of late.  Creative projects have always been important to me and I never seemed to have time or energy to devote to them this past year.  But what this job kept me from thinking about that was most important of all is school.  It has always in the back of my mind, yes, but it never seemed to get passed that point.

The place I had worked before this last job, I had worked there for over three years.  It was one of those places that had a ever sliding scope of favorability.  You thought that it was a fine job when you started but before you knew it, several years have gone by and the stress you experience there is enough to make you pop a blood vessel.  It was a time suck, a black hole where many a dream had died and I was thankful that I got out.  I didn't do it as soon as I should have.  The problem is that the job that took it's place was adding up to be the very same thing I had left.  It was filled with tedious situations and negative feedback that kept me from realizing my potential.

I know that no job is perfect and that there will always be people filling them that you might not be keen on, but what these two jobs had in common was that they kept me from wanting more.  I was content to go in every day, do what I was assigned to do and then go home, nothing more.  Much like how people stay in toxic relationships because the people are there, this job was there in a sense. And while it was there, so was  I, not thinking about my future.

But now I have an opportunity to think about my future.  It took me a long while to finally decide on something that has the right combination of what would pay well with what I would enjoy doing.  I believe patience has payed off in that respect.  I am excited about the prospect of going back to school and learning something important and then getting a career underway.  And that is the thing that I have always wanted, a career and not a job.  A job is something that you simply do, it doesn't feel permanent and it might not even contribute to you as a person.  But a career is something that you have, there is ownership in it and it becomes part of your personality.  It grows with you and the two of you can improve upon each other over time.  I've desired this for a long while and now it is finally time that I get it.

Life is filled with choices and divergent paths.  We might think that we know the end result but we can never know for sure.  It's said that the shortest way between two points is a straight line but life is never simple and who wants it shortened more than it already is?  I don't know how many times I've been wrong or how many times I've been right, but at this point it doesn't matter.  I just need to keep my eyes open and learn everything I can.  Being a student of life means being humble enough to see learning opportunities everywhere.  You might think you've graduated but as for me, class is just in session.

MPDGs and Me

Recently Ruby Sparks was released on DVD and Blu Ray.  It was a film that came out at the tail end of the summer and flew under most people's radar.  It starred Paul Dano and Zoe Kazan as well as being written by Kazan.  The real draw to the film was that it was directed by the crack husband and wife duo that brought us the fantastic Little Miss Sunshine, Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris.  This is only their second directorial work together and there was a lot of excitement around the film.  Many people were hoping lightning would strike twice and the magic that was Little Miss Sunshine would return.

The bar was set very high by Dayton and Faris and while most critics favor the movie I feel that they didn't quite cross a hurdle.  I do, however, find it a very interesting and engaging film, one with a story that poses a lot of questions regarding relationships with lovers as well as with our own subconsciousness.  That wasn't what drew me to it initially.  My curiosity stemmed from knowing that Ruby Sparks is a film that had one of the most blatant uses of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl to date.

The Manic Pixie Dream Girl, or MPDG for short, was a term coined by A.V. Club critic Nathan Rabin and is now used widely to describe the usually two-dimensional, female love interests that populate more and more movies.  By his definition they are "that bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures."  They are most certainly quirky, with little backstory and when they come into the life of the hero/protagonist, it is inexplicable why they fancy him in the first place due to his sad, morose nature.  But once the MPDG is in the protagonists life, his spirits are fully rejuvenated as she shows him a new side of life through spontaneous adventure.

Things don't always go well between the protagonist and the MPDG.  But whatever chasm that might grow between the characters matters little, because there is always a lesson to be learned by the protagonist in hopes that next time he will do better, act better and be better.

I know you're thinking of a few movie characters right now.  Sam (Natalie Portman) from Garden State, maybe even Claire Colburn (Kirsten Dunst) from Elizabethtown, but most certainly Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel) from (500) Days of Summer and you would be right.  These are women who exist solely for the purpose of the men that desire them.  They act as muse, giving the hero back his confidence that has been lost.  By showing him an abundance of unearned but much desired for love and affection, the man discovers how great life can be and is able to conquer the obstacles that stand in his way.

Here's the thing, my true confession.  I adore Manic Pixie Dream Girls.  All those movies I listed are movies I love.  I even love Elizabethtown.  I don't even think Cameron Crowe likes Elizabethtown!  I harbor a deep fantasy of unexpectedly meeting a quirky girl who sweeps me off my feet and shows me the value of life through her spontaneity because I see myself as one of those brooding, sensitive and soulful young writers who is very guarded and needs a little push to open up.  I relate to these protagonists on a very deep level and I understand how bad this is.  Actually this is worse than bad, this is terrible.  I'm letting this much derided character model dictate my romantic desires and expectations while playing into the hands of these usually weak male characters.

Much can be said as why the MPDG archetype is damaging for all people and Ruby Sparks illuminates many of those points.  The film follows the life of Calvin Weir-Fields, a young novelist who wrote a highly acclaimed novel when he was nineteen, went on to fame and fortune but has slipped into a mindset that keeps him from writing.  It's the ten year anniversary for his novel, Heart Broken Old Times and everyone is excited about what he might write next.  He goes to therapy often to try to deal with his many emotional issues but he seems to find anxiety everywhere.  It is as if his block extends far past writing and into life itself.

His therapist issues an assignment hoping to shake him out of his current state.  He asks him to write a few pages about meeting someone.  That night he had a vivid dream where he was in the park reading.  A stunning red head comes up and starts talking to him about his dog.  They have a very strange conversation and upon waking, Calvin feels inspired and begins to write.  Excited about having a new project, he fills in more and more of this mystery woman's character.  He names her Ruby Sparks and sets her birthplace at Dayton, Ohio (because it sounds romantic).  He makes her to be a firecracker.  She got kicked out of High School because she slept with one of her teachers and he gave her a long list of past bad-boy boyfriends.

Eventually Calvin begins to find strange feminine items around his house like a woman's razor in his bathroom and colorful lingerie in his drawers until one morning he finds the woman from his dream eating cereal in his kitchen.  Horrified, he rushes out of the house thinking that he has gone insane.  Ruby soon finds him and that's when Calvin learns that other people can see her because she is a real person.  He literally wrote the literal girl of his dreams into existence.  They begin a whirlwind romance all dictated by Calvin as he continues to write his book.  All goes well until Calvin's feelings for Ruby begin to change.  Calvin must learn to love reality or he might loose Ruby forever.

As I watched the film I couldn't tell whether the filmmakers were unaware of how misogynist this all came off or if they were purposefully laying it on thick as to comment on the MPDG archetype. Calvin is a character that at times is so repugnant that sympathy for him is easily disposed of.  Despite his meek and bookish manner, he exhibits many domineering male characteristics that are shared with abusive partners.  He doesn't like Ruby leaving his apartment and he disproves of the idea of her getting a job.  He can also re-write Ruby's characteristics to his pleasing.  Twice Calvin made Ruby French and when she talked she mysteriously forgot the English language.

Now, it could be argued that this was part of the point.  As the film draws closer to the climax, Calvin makes small changes to Ruby in order to correct changes that he made previously.  In one almost disturbing sequence, Ruby is made never to leave Calvin's side after Calvin senses Ruby's desire to move on.  Ruby becomes a terrifyingly clingy girlfriend that can't deal with not being in contact with Calvin to the extent that she bursts into tears if he so much as gets up to answer the phone.  With each new change Calvin makes to Ruby, she becomes less desirable, and in effect less human.  There is something liberating about having him lose control of his fantasy, however I feel that this message is far more subtle than the one paraded through the rest of the movie of you gotta find a woman that you can change.

And that's at the heart and what is so disappointing in this film.  Ruby seems like a fun, smart and all around terrific girl who any man would be lucky to be with.  However she is not her own person.  She did not exist before Calvin and their relationship is an ever shifting kaleidoscopic of tropes and clichés because that is what is in Calvin's head at the time.  It's this reason that Ruby Sparks has become the Manic Pixie Dream Girl with the least amount of character because it's all Calvin's character.

I'm puzzled and slightly disturbed why Kazan has chosen not only to construct a character that is traditionally two-dimensional, but she also plays her in the film.  Has this largely male fantasy icon pervaded our culture to the extent that even women are now saturated with their personality traits?  Kazan has naturally denied all of this in interviews saying the term is better applied in a critical use more than a creative one.  I will giver her that.  But then she criticized the term for being diminutive and reductive, something that the character of Ruby Sparks definitely experiences in the film. Kazan has a strong disdain for the term of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl but the concept of her still abounds in the film.  In the end I will chose that she meant to comment directly on the trope whether it was a conscious decision or not.

What these movies tell you is that all your problems, shortcomings and failings make you endearing, desirable or otherwise ripe for nurturing and affection.  What real life tells you is that you can never be good enough for love.  You either don't look the part, make enough or say the right things.  Whatever it is, there is an equation to be found.  We are usually lacking in a few aspects and never seem to add up.  Failure is never fun and that's why it's rarely in our movies.  But failure is a part of life and life is much more than 120 minutes.  Why these characters are so attractive is that they are manifestations of the people that we want to be.  They are little more than distilled essences of our own traits and desires that become watered down when even a tiny bit of reality is applied.

The challenge at hand is to divorce my affection from these characters.  I realize that at the heart, these movies propagate an outdated male-centric worldview that's filled with flighty nymphs who pop in and out of existence, and yet I will still watch and love these movies.  They are filled with gag inducing clichés, I know, but I want these clichés in my life more than anyone! I will always see a possibility that a little bit of fiction will become my reality because I know that all fiction is based in reality.  We live life viewing only one perspective and the people around us are little more than characters in a story that can only be told by us.  So why not throw a little fantasy in the mix and have fun with life?  As long as I keep one foot on the ground, I should be fine.

Ruby Sparks got funnier on the second viewing, or maybe I just took it less seriously.  And maybe that's my take away lesson, don't be so serious.  People always tell you to be the person you want to attract, so maybe I should be a little more quirky, unpredictable and fun.  Who knows, I just might run into a Manic Pixie Dream Girl of my own.  I could be someone that she's not usually used to, she could make me an abundance of mixtapes and we could go off into the sunset on some cross country road trip.

Getting to New York (New York Adventures pt. 1)

I feel I should add something about how long this is taking to write.  I've been home for well over a month and I haven't yet begun to finish this yet.  In some way I want to apologize but I don't know who to if not to myself for not working harder.  The old adage of lying on your death bed and never thinking "I should have worked harder," is not always true.  If your work is part of your life, then yes, you could demand more of it.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, please comment below.  

“I wandered everywhere, through cities and countries wide. And everywhere I went, the world was on my side.” 
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

When you make plans to travel, the point is to get away from your life.  Not life itself, but the daily trappings that you identify as being "your life."  While deep in the adventure you are well to learn that there is a world outside yourself, a world fortunately outside your imagination.  For if it were halfway conceivable there wouldn't be any reason to leave the confines of your tiny bubble at all.  The adventure should be the adventure, and all pretense of your old self might as well be left at behind.  By leaving all of that behind you'll be able to learn a second important point, that home is not such a bad place after all, that is until you have to go back there again.

I started out deliberately with adventure in mind when I set my foot forward to New York. I imagined that it was a place that could completely consume you whether you let it or not.  The old aphorism about being careful what you wished for comes to mind.  I've never had much luck with that, but in this case it worked for my boon as well my detriment.

The first leg of my journey took me from Asheville to Detroit.  I got to the airport with plenty of time to kill before my flight but I wasn't a hundred percent sure when that would be.  I was confused because throughout the day I had received a barrage of calls and emails informing me in changes to my itinerary.   Apparently, there happened to be some weather systems the prevented the planes to leave on time.  What wasn't so apparent was how late it made me for my connection because by the time I landed in Detroit and retrieved my bag, my flight to New York had already left the ground.  

Not worried, I found an attendant at a desk and told them my problem.  They looked up my information and told me that my flight was re booked for noon the next day.  "Oh, no," I said as I lowered my face into my hands.  "Is there any way I can leave sooner than that?"  I was told to go across the way to another service desk.  When I got there I was told the same thing as before and was promptly handed vouchers for food and lodging.  "Yeah, that's what I understand," I said.  I was shocked and a little heated but there was no way my trip was going to be delayed because of this.  I asked in the best tone of voice I could manage if there was anyway I could get a sooner flight?"  The attendant went to typing away at her keyboard.  "Would you be able to fly into LaGuardia?"  She asked.  "Absolutely," I said.  "I have a flight that's leaving really soon, you'll have to hurry," she said.  She then handed me my new boarding pass and told me where to find the gate.  

I was revealed and happy that I finally found a way to New York, but there was a problem.  I checked the time and the boarding pass.  I had approximately 12 minutes to get to a completely different side of the airport before the doors closed and I miss a second flight.

I cinched my bad close against my body, thanked the attendant and took off.  I began hustling through the airport as fast as I could manage although I was careful to pace myself.  I didn't know exactly how far I would be required to run.  Directions of where I needed to go echoed through my mind.  They made me hyper aware of my surroundings, conscious not to go down the wrong path.  I was constantly checking the passing gate numbers to ensure against that.  Stores and restaurants weren't whizzing like I would have wished but I felt I was making good time.

The moving sidewalks became my new best friends as they propelled me forward, giving me an extra boost.  I didn't use them to give me a breather, I had to keep going so I trudged forward faster than I could have gone alone.  Pain began to creep into my body.  I could feel a cramp swelling up in my stomach and my comically overstuffed bag was putting a strain on my shoulders as it shifted from one side of my body to the other.  More importantly the feeling of doubt and despair began to cloud my thinking, bringing my spirits down.  My body's energy was rapidly being depleted but I didn't give into the pain, I couldn't give into it.  I dug down deep into my final reserves and told myself I had no other option but to charge forward.

I finally made it to the line of gates I needed, but I still had a way's to go.  Ahead, there was another moving sidewalk and I positioned myself to take it but there was a couple several paces ahead that was languidly approaching it.  I gave my legs a burst of energy and cut closely ahead of them.  I needed this more than they did.

I looked around at the gates.  The numbers showed that I was getting close.  I could visualize the gate was right in front of me, all I had to do was get there.  I told my body to stay strong, that it didn't have long to go.  Before long I could see the gate in the distance.  The greatest thing was that there was a small crowd milling about around it.  I had made it!  I had ran all the way here, overcoming my aches before the plane left.  I was overjoyed.  

When I got to the gate attendant I handed them my boarding pass that I had been holding with a death grip.  It was wrinkled and slightly damp in places from my sweating.  I tried to be as honest as I could when he asked me how I was.  "Tired," was all I said with a grin.  I know he didn't hear me because I know that people like that don't care.  It wasn't his job to care, only his job to ask.

Once on the plane I longed for some A/C to cool me down and dry my sweat.  I made a call to my friend Stacey, who was already in New York to let her know about my travel changes and then sat back and relaxed.  I thought about the big city lives the people around me might have.  The man beside me had made a call to cancel his Friday reservation at a restaurant only to schedule another one on Sunday.  I made a sideways glance in his direction.  When he ended the call I was able to see his phone, the number 1 standing in solitude above the key pad.  Clearly he valued making reservations to restaurants more than any other communication, family included.

Such exciting lives they must have.  So electric and riveting, as electric as the lights that illuminated that great city.  When we finally neared the city, I pressed my face against the window, trying to make out features and breadth.  The plane's wing hindered my view and so I had to hold my head at an awkward angle, but I held it there anyway excited to see New York for the first time.  The vastsness of it all impressed me.  It was as if we were going over an endless field of Christmas lights.  I saw if I could make out anything familiar but all I could make out was a perfectly framed rectangle swathed in darkness.  That had to be Central Park, I surmised. 

We landed and I casually walked through the terminal still observing the people around me.  I must have been wide-eyed and amazed about where I was.  I finally made it to New York, living life among the bustle  and chasing after adventure.  It was as if this city was made for people like me, for the spirit I was seeking.  I wanted all of it, every last bit.

I met Stacey close to the exit where we had a satisfying reunion.  It had been a couple of years since we last saw each other, she being from the other end of the Country.   We left, chatting excitedly about our weekly planns as we bused closer toward the heart of the city.  

For those of you that have never been to New York and would someday like to go, get there any way you can.  Whether it is by plane, bus, or train.  The choice yours but know there is only one true option into the city I'd ever recommend, and that is the metro.  The two of us hurtled through the tunnels of the city, the subway car dense with people.  We swayed with every shift in the tracks, reflections of lights danced in the windows as we passed.  We got off at our stop and made our way upstairs.  The heavy humid air thinned slightly as we got closer to the surface.  We went though the turnstiles,  around the crowds of people, heading toward our exit.  Emerging, I was suddenly blinded by the sheer illuminated spectacle around me that was Times Square.  Lights flashed from every vantage point.  Gargantuan billboard's wrapped around skyscrapers were vying for my attention.  Sound; cars honking, people talking, yelling; seemed to mix with light for a distorting sensation.  Even the sidewalks sparkled.

We checked into our hotel and quickly dropped our stuff in our room and left.  I was eager to walk around and cut my teeth on the electricity of the night. I didn't want to waste one moment to comfort.  When you're in Rome you do as the Romans do, and when you're in the city that never sleeps, neither do you.

My first night was so enlightening.  We walked among the myriad of people and became acquainted with the stand-up comedy sales men that seem to be on every corner.  We even made friends with one.  He was pretty funny but we were disappointed to find that he wasn't one of the performers.  

My adrenaline high from traveling and seeing the city was fading just a little, reveling a hunger that could no longer be ignored.  Up until then I was surviving on half cups of soda and peanuts.  We decided that in honor of our first night in New York that it would only be fitting to commemorated it with a slice of New York pizza.

We walked further down 7th Avenue.  There were theaters and bars, and even a Sabarro.  I would think that they would be disgraced in a city with such a prestigious pizza pedigree as New York.  However, if Seattle can have a million Starbucks than New York can have a couple of Sabarros.  What we did find was Ray's Pizza, and what a find that was.  It turned out to be such a delicious slice of pie that hit the spot dead center.  I chose a slice that had a minimal amount of toppings.   The cheese was so scrumptious and the basil added to the character so well.  After I finished, I had to say, "Yeah, now that was New York pizza."

Once our wondering was done we went back to the hotel, content with our first night.  It was still hard to believe that I was in New York.  I parted the curtains, looking out at the bright, crowded view of the back side of a skyscraper.  Yep, I was here alright.  Living it up, living it well.

New York, will I love you?

I woke up today looking at my still empty bags. I know I should pack soon, but I need to do laundry first. I'll pack later, I tell myself. I look out the window instead. The morning sun has been diffused by a layer of fog, making everything milky and unknown. Tomorrow when I wake up I will be ready to board a plane where I hope to kickstart my adventure, taking a bite out of the Big Apple. I just hope I don't choke.

I've had the dream to see New York City for longer than I can remember. For me who has never experienced such an urban metropolis at this scale, New York holds a fantastical quality. I have this image of this landscape; buildings, apartments and skyscrapers, that go off into infinity. I imagine born and bred locals who have never even seen all of their city. I see a world removed from my reality, a world where anything is possible.

I made this trip co-inside with a concert by the Icelandic quartet Sigur Rós, a band who's music I nearly worship. The last time they had a tour that brought them to the States was in 2008 and of course, there were no venues even remotely close. I had a taste of what their live experience could be like when Jónsi, the band's singer, came to Moogfest to promote his solo project. It was such a affecting and magical performance that I vowed to myself that then next time Sigur Rós included the US in a tour, I would find a way to go. Seeing as it is now 2012 and the supposed end of the world, I better knock out two dreams at once.

What will I be doing there? A great friend of mine who has been to New York a couple of times will be accompanying me acting as tour guide. We're going to go sight seeing, attend a Broadway show, see the city from the vantage of the Empire State Building, peruse museums, have fun at Coney Island, watch Shakespeare In The Park, eat some traditional New York fare and many more adventurous activities. 

I hope I get lost, lost in the city, lost among the people. I hope I fall in love, transitory, fleeting, pining love. I want the City to teach me things about myself I could never learn anywhere else. I don't want be static, I want to keep going, running, doing. I want time to stop in the perfect moment where everything will be enlightened. And in that moment I want to realize everything that is good about the world. I might fall for the city, crush on the streets and towers. I might desire to be apart of the life blood that makes this magic work. I might never want to come home, and when time comes for me to depart, I might run from the airport and embrace my new home. You never know.

So this is what I will be doing for the next week. I'll keep you posted regarding my adventures. I promise you'll be on my mind during all of it. Wish me luck and bon voyage.

Now, where is that charger...