My Friend’s Announcement, or How I Inevitably Made His HIV Positive Status All About Me (But Hopefully in a Thoughtful Way)

I've been trying all day to figure out what to text you.  Your little message box has been open since 9am.  Of everything I want to say, little of it seems worth its weight in flag silks, and every single thought makes me wonder, "Is this ok to send?"  So instead of texting you like I want, I'm writing this note.  It's the sort of thing a college student might submit to her nonfiction writing workshop or publish on ThoughtCatalog.  If you're reading it now, hopefully I sent it straight to you instead of publishing on ThoughtCatalog.  (Update 7/23/2015: A personal blog post seemed like a decent compromise.)

So, does it hurt?  How many pills do you have to take?  How'd you find out?  How'd you get it?  Will you be ok?  For how long?  Do I sound like an idiot?  Did you regret, even for a second, your very public Facebook post in which you told the world you have HIV?  Does your ex and our mutual friend have it too?  Do I sound like an asshole?

I imagine the answers are: yes, a lot, annual screening, none of your goddamn business, for now, I don't know, a little, more relieved than regretful, none of your goddamn business, and a little.

Only you know what the answers really are, and the questions hardly matter.  They somehow felt more honest than the hundred comments of, "Oh, I'm so sorry," or "We love you, and we'll be praying for you," or "Yeah, screw those guys."

For any outsiders playing catch-up: my friend's announcement was not a typical 2AM "Vague-book" blast of a personal life anecdote no one wants to see in their morning news feeds.  It was not a post of hubris.  It came from a shocking place of intense frustration and hurt.  He snatched his power back from the situation in one fell swoop. (It was a swoop of grammatical chaos, but a mighty swoop no less.)   

I am impressed with you and upset for you.  It's unthinkable that your close friends or family could use their knowledge as some kind of community gossip, or leverage.  It's incredible that you took their unkindness and turned it into an opportunity for openness.

You may have been angry when you wrote your announcement, but in return you're getting an outpouring of love.  You still have so many of us in your corner.  For you and I, that amounts to yearly text messages and the occasional Facebook tag.  Others may speak with you every day, rarely, or not at all.  Either way, we all appreciate you letting us show how much we care about you in the face of something this big.  We appreciate you letting us talk about it.

It used to be the opposite—no one talked about it at all.  My uncle had HIV in the 1980s, a time when the musical "Rent" was considered an optimistic outlook.  I learned he had HIV when I was 19.  He'd lost his battle when I was 7.  No one had even told me he was positive, or sick, or special, or however you explain these things to a 7 year-old, and I'll never forgive myself for not being there for him in whatever small way I could have.  The chance to show him that extra bit of love was taken out of my hands, but in telling your community that you have HIV now, you gave that chance to every person who truly cares about you.  People thrive on that chance.  We live for that chance.  You've unwittingly handed it to us all, and for your outspokenness we cannot thank you enough.

10 years ago, almost to the date, you entered my life in a small way that grew into an enormity.  You teaching that gangly, lonely teenager how to spin a flag wound up having a greater impact than either of us could have guessed.

I love you.

Text you next year.

The Search for Atlanta's Best Pancake

Since relocating to midtown Atlanta in August, there aren't too many things I miss about Nashville.  Granted, I'm occasionally nostalgic for a good country song, but there's one Nashville spot that still tugs at my heartstrings like an Irish penny whistle in "My Heart Will Go On."  The Pancake Pantry.


If you've ever visited Nashville, TN, the iconic Pancake Pantry on 21st Ave. was likely the first and last stop on your breakfast circuit.  If you live there, you likely call it the most delicious tourist trap to ever grace the streets of Hillsboro Village.  For all you former Nashvillians out there, you likely miss those pancake-serving little old ladies just as much as I do.

What is it?! What possesses hundreds of people to stand in a 45-minute line for PANCAKES on any given Saturday morning/afternoon, no matter the season?  I'll be honest, I've done it.  I once stood outside those deceptively plain bricks for 30 minutes in the rain on a 45ºF Sunday morning for those pancakes, and I would probably not do it again, but it was definitely worth it at the time!  Is it the old(er) ladies who serve them?  I would like to at this juncture point out that they are not "little" old ladies – those glorious pancake biddies come in all shapes and sizes, and boy are they great at what they do!

But back to the point – is it the ridiculously wide selection?  Or maybe it's just that those pancakes are damn tasty.  Somehow, in the six years I lived in Nashville and the dozens of times I visited the restaurant, I only varied from the Buttermilk pancakes once.  I choose to believe that says more about the Pantry's magnificent original recipe than it says about my repetitive life decisions.

I'm on a quest, ladies and gentlemen!  My mission, which I have chosen to accept, is to dine in every pancake restaurant within the Atlanta I-285 Perimeter until I find, or go broke trying to find, the next best thing to Nashville's (and Gatlinburg's) Pancake Pantry right here in Atlanta.

Wish me luck everyone, and please OFFER SUGGESTIONS for the next place to try!  This isn't just for me.  Well, it is.  But there's no harm in the rest of Atlanta benefiting as well.  After all, it's for the pancakes.




What's YOUR go-to place for local pancakes?  (That's right, local.  If you put an IHOP or McDonald's, so help me.)

The 22 Project: NYC - episodes 17-22

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The 22 Project: NYC - episode 16

One day I posted a update on Facebook that said, "Does anyone in New York know where I can find a lobby or something with a piano? My fingers are itching and I already packed my keyboard for shipping... :/"  Question for my musicians out there - do you ever get those urges?  Sometimes I really feel like singing, but I find I'm in public and it scares me.  After I posted that status, a friend of mine commented, "Why don't you go to a hotel or whatever and tell them you'll play a night for free?"  I thought she was nuts.  It seemed silly at the time, but a week later I went back and her comment had three Likes and a follow up that seconded her suggestion.

So I searched hotels, called a few numbers, pretended to be someone hired to play the piano, tried to reach the people who book the "lobby entertainment," and it was all for nothing.  I wound up just walking inside, sitting down, and playing the stinking piano.

And it was splendid.

On my way out, the 22 Project came to life - in reverse.  A man stopped me just outside the hotel lobby.  He was outside for a smoke break, but I'd seen him indoors.  He said, "You play beautifully."  I thanked him, and he followed with, "You are very good. And I know music."

My inner reaction was, "OMFG THIS GUY IS GOING TO SIGN ME TO A RECORD CONTRACT! I'VE BEEN FOUND! AH! MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!"

I asked him, "Oh really? What do you mean?"

And that's how I met Mike, a man whose son runs a recording studio in Malibu, California.  He just started, and the place is booming.  Apparently small business isn't in trouble in the music industry – of course, big business in the music industry is in enough trouble for everyone.

Mike, the man with the musical son, wouldn't let me take a picture with him because, I quote, his "wife would be very, extremely upset" with him.  He said I could write about him as part of the 22, and so here he is.  I'm looking up that studio the minute I get to CA.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 15

If you haven't seen The 22 Project: NYC - episode 14, read it first!

So lets back track: before my pal Frankie and I ever knew each other – minutes before, in fact – a man got onto our train with two bags, a satchel on his shoulder and in his hands a bag from IKEA.  The big blue IKEA bag was pretty annoying, because it was bulky and filled to the brim with clothes and things, so it probably would have been better to have a duffel, but he didn't.  That stupid bag kept bumping into everyone, sitters and standers alike, which made it really easy to miss the other bag on his shoulder.  Rather, what was poking out of the other bag on his shoulder.  Francisco and I noticed it about the same time: he jumped in his seat, I gasped, and then we turned to each other in shock for just a moment before cracking up, because that's what you do when something like that happens.  (The girl sitting across from us was laughing at us too, but she didn't turn out to be 22 material.)

See it yet? How about now?

And that's how I met Man with the Incognito Dog! 

You'll have to excuse the photo – it was a bad angle, so I cut myself out (for the second time) to get his face in there.  You'll also have to excuse his face, because this must be a really bad picture of him.  Poor guy, he was in a hurry, as the train was pulling up to his stop.

Again, this one's my fault.  Always with the last-minute decisions to go in for the photo!

Things always turn out bad when it takes forever to get up the guts to do them.  "Will I?  Won't I?  Is it going to be stupid? I think I should.  But I can't!"  And back and forth until the decision is made, but it's really too late for anything good to come of it.  (Seriously, just look at this guy's face.)

I've been working on this as of late – that's part of what 22 is all about – but I've got to get better.  I've started telling myself, the minute you get the impulse, just follow it.  See where it takes you.  You might surprise yourself.  Why wait?  There's zero reward for waiting in some situations, and the 22 Project is one of them.  Sure, I could wait until it's close to my stop to avoid the awkwardness of prolonged experience with these strangers who don't know how to take me, but that's silly.  It's already awkward enough, and I should just embrace it.  I'm already the poster child for the socially awkward.  What else should I need?

So there you go, Man with the Incognito Dog.  I embrace you.  And your dog.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 14

Starting off with a confession: this installment and the next are a two-part meeting.  I know!  I'm ripping the rules of the 22 Project to shreds, but I'll be honest, I skipped a day and had to catch up eventually – this twofer was just too good to pass up.

This is me and my new pal Francisco!

I'm afraid he might fall under the same umbrella of the last 22 profile – he seemed to think I was coming on to him.  Lucky for me, I have the universal Get Away Quick card, "Oh, that's so nice of you, but I have a boyfriend!"  (Though, looking at this picture, it didn't seem to work.  He's awfully close.  I'm going to have to start taking these photos in landscape.)

It's interesting, I was on a different train than usual, taking the 1-2-3 line instead of my usual 4-5-6.  Maybe it was the brown and orange coloring of the train, or the dim lights, or maybe it was the air conditioner that was barely holding on to life, but the atmosphere just seemed warmer!  New Yorkers must be nicer when the lighting isn't so harsh.

Frankie and I did speak for a while, so I got to know him a little better than some of the other 22.  He's born and raised right here in the city, and he just started a job in security!  Good for you, Francisco.  I told him so, and he thought about it for a moment and said, "Thank you."  I like a person who thinks about what he's about to say.  +2 in my book.

The two of us only spoke in the first place because we were mutually frightened by something.  In his words, he was just "caught off guard," but I know fear of a monster when I see it.  And that's how Francisco and I met the next of the 22!

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 13

A new dilemma has presented itself, and it's not just that I cut part of my face out of the photo.

This is Saquan.

I met him on the downtown 6 train, right as we were pulling into my stop, and he made it into the 22 because I thought two things: the second was that I need more diversity.  I should be an equal opportunity creep!  The first was that he was a young man cleaned up nice in a suit in East Harlem.  Not something you see every day.  Or week.  Or every three months, because that's about how long I've lived there.

When I handed him my phone to get his email address, as I try to remember for all of my victims/subjects, he gave me his phone number instead.  Okay, I thought, that's not too strange. We were pressed for time after all.  (If he'd taken much longer, I would have been on my way to another MariaMaria!)  Plus, I needed him to spell his name for me.  A quick text was perfect for that.

And then it began.

I've taken photos with a lot of guys over the last 13 episodes.  Do they all think I'm hitting on them?  Sure, I say a few complimentary things about them in the posts, but should I say something?  That seems like the socially awkward thing to do, lead with, "Oh by the way, I'm not hitting on you, this is purely for blogging purposes."

Is Saquan just a bold young man, or is the 22 Project giving a lot of fellas the wrong idea?

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 12

Here's a short but sweetie, because I honestly didn't learn much while actively not getting too close.  I didn't even stand next to her long enough to learn a name.

It has been said about this young woman, "You better enjoy your hearing while you got it, because you ain't gonna have it for long standing here!"  And that's because she's the loudest screaming fan I'd ever had the amusement (and slight displeasure) to encounter.

On one hand, she made my morning.  On another, the decibel level was substantially higher with her in the vicinity.

That's how I met Ne-Yo's biggest fan, at the August 3rd Good Morning America concert series  starring Ne-Yo!

The 6AM gate clearly didn't dampen her spirits at all, and she knew everything.  Among hundreds of "NE-YO I LOVE YOU!!"s and "OH MY GOD IT'S NE-YO!!"s, I learned that the male dancer in the red shorts is the one who dances in all of Ne-Yo's videos, and Ne-Yo is a Libra.  See?  It was educational.

The others in my group were pretty annoyed with her by the end, but I found her endearing.  I was quite close to trading my VIP wristband for her General Admission one, just so she could get a little closer to the star in her eyes.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 11

This meeting was pretty straightforward and uneventful.  A guy wearing a fitted, short sleeved shirt caught my eye.  Of course he did, right?  He was holding onto the subway rail in our crowded train, because that's what you do in a subway, especially when the driver (conductor?) is a train-jerking jerk. (See what I did there?)  Ease onto the breaks, dude!

Anyway, guy looked great in his fitted shirt, lots of defined muscle-y stuff going on, but one thing was odd about him.  On the inside of his bicep, which was otherwise a very nice bicep, was a tattoo.  It's not the first inner-arm tattoo I'd ever seen, but this one was definitely the most unexpected.  Muscle-y man had a large tattoo of a spoon!  (Not pictured, because I'm a daft bint who forgets to take photos of important things.)

I admired, and wondered, and curious'ed from afar.  What did it mean?  

It must have some intense meaning, I thought.  That is no ordinary spoon.  Maybe there is no spoon at all!  That train of thought led to obligatory conjectures of allusions from The Matrix, but I quickly squashed those ideas, because then the not-spoon would be bent, right?

It was clear that The Spoon Arm had captured my attention to the point that I had to follow the rules of the 22 Project, so when I'd had enough of fruitless guessing I walked over and introduced myself.

And that's how I met Vinny.  I think.  I'm actually not certain of his name, because for such a muscle-y man, he was very soft spoken.

I asked what his tattoo meant, and he said plainly, "It's my profession."

Well this just goes to where my head is any time before 10AM, because I immediately went to, Woah, he's a spoon maker?  Crafter of spoons?  My, that's unreal.  Then again, I've never thought about who makes our spoons before.

Then he elaborated and I felt like a fool: he's a chef, of course.

And that was it!  I sort of neglected him for the rest of the train ride, and completely forgot to get his info to send him a link to the article, but that's how I met The Man Who Might Be Called Vinny the Chef.

I hope to see him on one of those food TV shows one day, just to finally know his name.  And to say, "I met that guy when I was living in the Greatest City on Earth*!"

(*Citation needed.)

Once and For All: The Obligatory Chick-Fil-A Stance

It's silly that this stupid debate cost angry moments with people I love. It's even sillier that both sides of the debate have reasonable arguments. (The CEO, on the other hand, is a bigoted prick and a PR nightmare, and it would be wise of him to permanently reside in the hole that he has dug for himself, to make life easier for the rest of us.)

All that said, I never wanted to take a side on the issue. Still don't, to be honest. Though I haven't visited a Chick-Fil-A restaurant in a number of months, it hasn't been because of the company leaders' stances on gay rights or religion. Beliefs and religion are on a slippery slope when it comes to their places in the corporate world anyway. Many times over, I tried to put myself in the place of the people slighted by the company's words and actions. What if the CEO had said, "Down with the Blacks!" or what if he had announced that they were donating money to organizations for the purpose of barring women from the right to drive a car? I'd be upset in either case. I'd probably stop eating there with more purpose, but still I didn't want to take a side on the issue. Besides, Chick-Fil-A is first and foremost a company. It's a company whose presence has brought a lot of good things to the country and to my home state of Georgia. Still, the sandwich and the waffle fries should have nothing to do with anyone's personal beliefs.

It's taken me a long time to get here, but finally I've arrived at a conclusion, and it is this: I do not care what one man thinks. I wouldn't try to make the Chick-Fil-A CEO "see the light" any more than I would explain to an old racist woman that I'm not going to steal her good china. I am not directly affected by the policies, but once I see my own friends profoundly upset by the unjust beliefs of that one man, the sandwich and the waffle fries are no longer worth it. In layman's terms: since it means so much to people I like and respect, I'm finished. So long, Chick-Fil-A. Until we meet equally.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 9

Last Tuesday (going into Wednesday) I was at the office until 1AM working on a project.  Worst day ever.  So at 1AM on a weekday, I felt pretty uncomfortable taking the hour-long train ride home, not to mention the half mile walk once I got there (which feels like 5 miles in the dark).  Then, a cab ride from the bottom of the island to the top of the island is no cheap thrill.  So I did something I wasn't supposed to... and I called for a company car.

Maybe I'd been watching too much Ugly Betty, where all the employees get to use a car if they're in the office past a certain hour, but I didn't expect too much trouble from it.  (I got in a little trouble, but that's not the point either.)

All this is to say, that's how I met Mohammed.  Try to contain your amusement at the happily fed stereotype here, but yes, Mohammed was the driver.  Really nice guy!  He moved here nearly 40 years ago from Bangladesh.  If you don't know, that's one of the little countries dividing India and China – I imagine there's some tension there – right on the edge of when Middle East becomes plain ole' East.  (Afghanistan is the "tan" on the very left edge of this photo, if that gives any more perspective at all.)

Mohammed my driver lives in Queens now, but he's been all over the world!  He was telling me about his time in Europe, and Africa, and how it gets surprisingly cold in some parts of Africa (which of course it does, but we Americans picture hot desert land, because that's what we've been shown).  And like so many other immigrants from the Middle East, he had a much higher status in his home.  He's an American citizen now, but that doesn't change the way his career went.  He came over to work in communications, but that was pretty short lived.

Much of his family is still in Bangladesh.  Sometimes his mother visits for a few months, and sometimes he takes the family he's raised and they visit Bangladesh.

It's impossible for me to capture everything we talked about here, mainly because I didn't take any notes, but I do know that he and all the people like him have had an incredible impact on the way I see the world.  It's so easy to forget that it's round, if you know what I mean.  No place is ultimately more important than another – Africa is enormous, and the United States is actually quite modest in size.  (There's a joke here.  Think, think... aha!  "The size of the USA is a lot like the average white guy's junk: nothing to be ashamed of, but nothing to brag about either."  And draw some parallels between America and average white guys, etc.  Perfect.  Back to Mohammed.)

People from other countries both inspire and frighten me.  On one hand, it's so great to think that you can up and move to another place in the world, and you'll be okay.  You'll make it.  It's scary, though, to think that you may never live up to the potential that you would have in your home.  Which do you choose?

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 8

I saw this girl in the subway station at 125th St. waiting for the downtown 6 train, and at first she just looked like a regular person back from a softball game.  She had on the entire outfit, complete with softball bat and athlete headphones.  (You know how sports players are always wearing headphones before and after a game – she looked like that.)  I didn't really pay any attention to her – she's just an ordinary high school kid back from a game.  Whatever.

Then she started rocking out in the middle of the subway station.  My eye was absolutely caught.

So I walked over to her, and it was almost painful to interrupt her one-person jam session, but I didn't want to a repeat of the MariaMaria situation.  As I got closer, this girl became even more unique in my eyes, because from her headphones came the sultry voice of Chad Kroeger.  (I by "sultry," I do mean "gravelly," because CK here is the lead singer of Nickelback.  She was rocking out to Nickelback!)

So I do my now-standard shoulder tap-tap, and she takes her headphones down.  We took this photo, and that's how I met Ashante!

Before I walked away I asked, "So what were you listening to?"

She got this look on her face, the one people get when they're not sure what to say, and she told me, "Rock. It's rock music."

So I made things easier for her and said, "Okay, cool.  I thought I heard Nickelback?"

Her whole face lit up like she'd just met a kindred spirit.  I half expected her to jump up, hug me and whisper, "Finally, someone who understands me!"  Instead she said, "Yeah!  'If Today Was Your Last Day!'"  The unsaid, 'Holy crap, you're know who Nickelback is?' hung between us.

I may have really made Ashante's Monday afternoon, if only for a few good moments.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 7

The person for whom this post was written has since asked me to remove it.  Nice things said about you on the internet isn't for everyone, I suppose.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 6

I sure did consider using these guys as five separate episodes, but it's enough of a stretch already – our meeting wasn't exactly happenstance.  In fact, it probably shouldn't count at all, since the hardest part about this project is getting the guts to go up to people, cold introduction, and hope for the best.  There are signals that make it easier of course.  I haven't tried a person that isn't alone yet, and I don't usually go for people who look preoccupied in any way, but it's still daunting.  This exercise was originally meant to help me be myself around people I don't know yet, but it's starting to become a test in bravery as well.  It wasn't like that for these fellas at all.

We were all in a music video!

I was Girl Walking Down the Street. The one in the green shirt was our director, Ethan, and the other guys were Guys on Stoop.  Action!  I walk down the street, and all of the guys whoop, and holler, and make catcalls and rude gestures at me.  And then the Asian guy rises from his spot and hits on me personally – and I get to reject him in the harshest way possible.  Lucky for me, he's about a foot shorter than me, so that's easy.  Lot's of mocking and cheek pinching ensues.  Cut!

And that's how I met the guys from the Soul Khan video shoot.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 5

There I was, standing in the doors of a Brooklyn-bound 4 train, barely any time to ignore the "Stand clear of the closing doors, please!"  (I'm not sure why they say "please," because it's pretty obvious there's no pleading involved.)  The doors closed on me, and opened again, and closed tighter, and opened again.  You'd think I would have learned by that point – but I stayed there in the frame as they tried to close even tighter, and opened again.  My wrists would surely be bruised within the hour.  (Is it instinct to never touch anything in New York with bare hands?)

That's how I met... well I didn't catch her name, did I?  That was my own fault.  I knew the train was coming, and decided to go for the photo anyway.  I think it was the hair that caught my eye – you can't see it, but it went all the way down to her stomach!  It's a shame I didn't catch her name, though.  I'll have to work on my snap journalism.

She looked at me like I was nuts the whole time, and can you blame her?  I did manage to work a few things out for myself based on three clues:

1.  The tight-slicked, blonde, side-ponytail.

2.  The fact that we were located in Spanish Harlem.

3.  The accent in which she repeated, "This is for a blog?  What kind of blog?" in that voice full of youthful distrust.

With these three clues I invented a story for her, and that's how I met MariaMaria.

She reminds me an awful lot of a West Side Story, and she's a musician (note the Dr. Dre headphones) working alongside Santana to write and record his next album!  How exciting for her (and all of us)!  She's also the very first woman to be featured here on the 22 Project, so double kudos for this one.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 4

If you've ever frequented the subway trains in New York, you know that short of an entire bench to yourself, this is one of the best spots in the subway car:

Why? Because it's perfect.  If you're on the side with the doors that remain closed at every stop, you can just stand there without ever having to budge up and out of the way.  Even as a shiny new addition to the Greatest City on Earth* (*citation needed), I know this nifty little subway trick – (un)fortunately, another NYC newbie on my train had learned it as well.

That's how I met Alex the artist.  Though he's originally from Washington DC, he has become a learned man when it comes to the subway and the best spots to stand.  I'll be honest, I first noticed him while he was standing and with a friend who happend to be substantially less handsome.  It might have been a better post if both of them were pictured, but I haven't conquered the fear of walking up to people in groups yet.  That's still on the table.  Even after his friend exited the train at 68th St. (or something like that), I wasn't planning to approach.

That's when it happened.  I decided to move from my seat to the spot pictured above, and just when I was about two feet away, Alex the artist just slipped right in before me!  It was like one of those moments when you're in the grocery store and notice that there's only one Snicker's bar left on the shelf – you don't really need it, but what the heck it'd be nice – and right as you're reaching out, a frumpy lady with a grocery cart full of frozen pizzas rolls in front of you and grabs it first.  It was exactly like that!  The difference is in this scenario, the frumpy frozen pizza lady sees that I was going for the Snicker's bar and hands it to me ever so nicely.

He was so nice about it!  We were both pretty awkward as well.  With him trying to be nice and me trying to be fair, neither of us wanted to stand in The Spot anymore.  Eventually we both won, Alex able to be the kind stranger and I claiming The Spot.  It's a good thing, too, because between my braids and his head full of hair, it could have turned into a subway cat fight of legend.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 3

Maybe I was poorly calibrated today, but I could have sworn this guy was about 17 years old.  I was on the Bronx-bound 4 train again, it was around 7pm or 8pm, and he stepped on the train.  I first noticed the hair, and then the youthful face, and then the backpack – I came to the conclusion that he's probably a local on summer break.  And then I concluded that he was the kind of guy I would have crushed on secretly in high school.  This was in comparison to my actual high school crushes, just to make myself feel less creepy.  I thought he was 17, after all.  In fact, I just tried to think of something else entirely.  No use starting a career as a pedo when I didn't have to, right?

Pedophile or not, the damage was done.  He'd caught my attention, and I had to introduce myself per the restraints of 22.

That's how I met Ethan the engineer, and after talking to him for a couple of minutes I learned he just finished the undergrad program at University of Connecticut, he's headed to Cornell University to get his PhD, and he is 22 years old.


It's particularly exciting that he's 22 (for obvious reasons), and I got one thing right: he is on summer break!

The truth was so far off my initial assumptions it's a little embarrassing.  I used to consider myself a decent judge of character after knowing a person for a while, but the more people I've gotten to know closely, the more I realize just how much I don't understand.  It's always been a big thing for me to withhold judgment on a person whose situation I don't know, and meeting Ethan the engineer has made things a lot more interesting.  We all make snap judgements of people we see, and while most of them are totally harmless, it's worth being conscious of what we think.  </soapbox>

All that said, I'm just glad I don't have to worry about being a predator.  It'd be way easy to catch me.  Thanks for being on my blog, Ethan the engineer!



Have you met anyone that surprised you lately?

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 2

Once upon a time, there was a young 20-something living in the Greatest City in the World* (*citation needed).  She was the type to go see The Dark Knight Rises in theatres two days after she'd already seen it; the kind of girl who browsed through a bookstore after seeing said movie; the kind of young woman who couldn't pass up a moment to talk to the mysterious-looking character standing outside said bookstore.

Okay fine, we're talking about me.

And that's how I met Louis Mendez, the 72 year-old New York City photographer with a flair for the surprising.  Oh here, let me Google him for you.  He's the guy that shows up on the side.

It was easy to walk up and have a chat, and it turned out that he often settles in a high traffic spot of the city with his camera letting people come to him.  I was caught like a shrimp in a net, but I didn't mind.  It became clear that our conversation would be a fun one when I asked to take a photo together with him and he asked, pointing to my iPhone, "You know how to use that thing?"  I'm still not sure there's a right way to answer that question coming from a man holding the Kodak mammoth you see in his hands, but I managed well enough.  For an iPhone, anyway.  That's when he got behind his own camera and asked to take my photograph!Sure it was surprising, but being the attention hog I am, my only response was, "Where do you want me?"  


Then he asked if I wanted to interview him, and how could I say no?

Mr. Mendes could very well be the father of "Shit My Dad Says" if we didn't all know better.  He's the kind of man who takes full advantage of his age.  I think my favorite was when two tourists walked up and started taking photos of him with their cameras.  He looked them deadpan and said, "You didn't pay for that,"and then he stared at them until they nervously gave him a couple of dollars and ran off.  He turned to me grinning and handed me the two dollars saying, "Go buy yourself something nice." Again, I couldn't say no.

Then of course, I asked him if he does that to everyone, and his answer was simple enough: "I'm old, I say whatever I want!"

I hope I say whatever I want when I'm old.  Here's to Louis Mendes, episode two of The 22 Project: NYC.

The 22 Project: NYC - episode 1

As of today, I'm going to be in the Greatest City on Earth* (*source needed) for only twenty-two more days, and despite my greatest efforts, I'm still a sad little caterpillar when it comes to branching out and meeting people on my own.  If I want to make it in film, this simply will not do.  So I've decided to put myself to the test: for every day I am still in New York, I will get a picture with one new person I've never met before.  That's 22 people, 22 chances to learn something new, and 22 stories I get to tell.

And so the 22 Project begins.

Excuse the photo quality. It's a work in progress.

This is me with my new pal Bereket!


He's from Eritrea, which he describes as "the booger-shaped country north of Ethiopia."

I didn't get the chance to ask Bereket what he's doing in New York – worst interview ever, right? – but I do know this: he says "excuse me" when he needs to squeeze past someone on the subway, and he checks with fellow passengers to make sure he's on the right train.  Or who knows?  Maybe it's just to make conversation.
He certainly seemed comfortable enough asking a young woman to share what she was reading.  Everyone in the immediate area seemed shocked that someone would be so brazen as to interrupt a New Yorker while she's reading on the subway, and she wasn't the nicest about holding up her book so he could read the title.  He didn't seem to mind.


In a way, I owe this entire idea to Bereket.  I'd had it on my mind for a while, along with different projects that are yet to come (keep a lookout the "Friendless Girl" and the "Un-Expert").  But there was something holding me back!  Subway riders are scary, right?  We're all so careful to stay in our own little worlds, forgetting that the people around us probably feel the same way.  We're not strangers so much as we are identical.  And then along came Bereket, reminding me that those barriers are so easily broken.  He was just interesting enough that he didn't seem crazy, and just crazy enough to inspire me.  So to him I send a Bronx bound 4 train full of gratitude, and to my readers – all two of you, thanks Mom and boyfriend – I introduce the New York City that met me this summer.

My Best and Worst Movies and TV of 2010/2011

Here's an oldie but goodie that I whipped up while applying to a summer internship program for Summer 2011.  The prompt was quite simply to write about the best or worst movies/tv I'd seen.  Too bad for me they said to be brief.  Too bad for them I just couldn't do it.  But no worries, I got in.  Everyone wins!  This is what I wrote:

I know the instructions were to be brief, but there is no way to briefly and justly explain these movie and TV choices.  Forgive me, but I picked fairness over brevity.

BEST MOVIES - EASY A, I LOVE YOU, PHILLIP MORRIS, AND INCEPTION

All three of these movies had interesting stories with great characters and interesting plots, but the thing that ties them together for me is the memorable, dynamic way that they are told on screen.

For Easy A, the screenwriting is what makes the movie.  We’ve heard the basic story before—an ordinary teenage girl is misjudged at her local high school—but the great comedy writing takes that ordinary girl and ordinary scenes and turns them into laugh-out-loud situations, the likes of which I hadn’t seen done well since Tina Fey’s screenplay for Mean Girls in 2004.

 

The acting in I Love You, Phillip Morris is definitely what brings that story to life.  Ewan McGregor and Jim Carrey share an intimate, almost awkwardly intimate, onscreen chemistry that tells more of the story than the writing alone ever could.  Then there is the sheer number of unbelievable situations in the film, which would not be successful without Carrey’s confident, realistic performance.  It helps the audience be more willing to suspend disbelief at the hyper-realistic scenes that are supposed to be part of a very real, true story.

As for Inception, part of the movie’s message is also its greatest strength: there is nothing more powerful than an idea.  And when a great idea is fully formed and executed with great magnitude and great intensity, we end up with great movies like Inception.  What’s more is that for such a cerebral film, and the storytellers do a nice job of balancing that with characters we care about, using them as vehicles to reveal more about the intellectual aspects of the film.

WORST MOVIE - THE SORCERER'S APPRENTICE

My expectations were exceedingly low, and somehow this movie failed to meet even those.  It had so much potential!  But twenty minutes in, I wondered how much longer I had until the end.  Then, fifteen minutes from the end I thought, "Wait a minute, it’s almost over?  But I'm still waiting for something good to happen." 

The characters seemed half-developed; there was never a point when I cared about the supposed main characters any more than I cared about the more peripheral ones, and that’s when I could distinguish the main characters from the peripheral ones.  My entire experience was just one potentially great letdown after another.  Climaxes in the film fell many marks short, the villains weren't mean enough, and the heroes weren't smart enough.  This movie was like watching an old episode of Blue's Clues, and yelling at the TV for Steve to see the clue that was right in front of his face.  I don’t think I’ve ever been so underwhelmed.

BEST TV SHOWS - MODERN FAMILY, PARKS AND RECREATION, 30 ROCK

It feels like TV is in a sitcom revival, a Situational Comedy Renaissance.  Dramas are still popular, but they are gradually giving way to their witty, half-as-long, comedic counterparts.  Dramas do have their high points—characters we love, characters we hate, and stories that leave us dying to know what happens next.  Sitcoms, on the other hand, have the ability to give viewers a 30-minute fix of laughs.  I think viewers have picked up on the idea that dramas require a lot of work from them (keeping up with the story, understanding the characters), whereas sitcoms are simple and don’t require nearly as much ongoing, active involvement.  You could say that a sitcom is like quick sex in a storage closet, whereas a drama is like making love to your 3-year romantic partner.  After making up from a huge fight.  On Valentine’s Day.

 

So my picks for the best TV shows this year are based on the way that these programs are able to take the some of the best qualities of a dramatic show and put them into a situational comedy series.  First, Modern Family on ABC successfully bears a positive message for tolerance without being too overbearing or too “Full House.”  Then we have Parks and Recreation and 30 Rock, both on NBC Thursdays.  I call these two shows the “SNL Brain-children,” led by Tina Fey’s awesome writing and Amy Poehler in what I consider her best role.  The best thing about both programs is that the quality of comedy writing has been pretty constant, and in many places it has improved as seasons passed.  (Particularly for Parks and Recreation, the second season turned out much better than the first.)  Most impressive to me about all three programs is their capacity for character development in relatively nonlinear stories.

WORST TV SHOW - BURN NOTICE

Last summer, I read the screenplay for the show's pilot, and it looked promising.  I watched the pilot, and even though most of the acting left something to be desired, the whole thing showed lots of room for growth. But I soon noticed that as the series continues, the story stops moving forward.  It never completely halts, but it moves in a circle.  The main character’s super objective is crystal clear—to find out why he was burned, who burned him, and how to get justice for himself—but at the beginning of season three, I felt no closer to finding the answers to these questions than I did at the end of season one.  Things got boring.

It has become a sort of hobby of mine to watch shows that seem to be on the fast track to cancellation, and attempt to remedy the problem, or try to figure out how the story could be saved.  The most tragic example of this for me was the NBC show, Heroes.  It had taken a turn for the worse during the writer's strike, but just when they made a bold story choice that could have saved the story, the show had to be cancelled.  (Understandable, as it had lost viewers who would be difficult if not impossible to win back.)

In terms of Burn Notice, it seems like the show's writers decided to focus more on character development, but the problem with that is that these characters were created to play into certain roles.  Of course, with enough backstory, this is not impossible to fix, and it looks like that's what they tried to do.  The trouble with going along that route is that it lost most of the initial appeal of the fast-paced, hiding-from-the-law, spy story.  I haven't watched the show since the beginning of the most recent season, but I would be interested in seeing what they have done with it, especially since NBC Universal and USA have renewed it for what looks like another two seasons.