you know this may sound a little nuts, but i love hearing people talk about what they are really passionate about. have you ever done that? watch and listen to someone talk about something that drives them? their entire persona changes, they get a twinle in their eye, a smile in the corner of their mouth, their voice changes, they way they stand/sit changes, they almost seem to glow, and whats great about it, you cant help but be interested in what they talk about.

its like when my dad or stepbrother talk about computers, i know nothing about them and to tell you the truth im not really all that interested, but when they start to talk about it, they light up, i learn something new, i love to watch that spark.

i used to go to this coffee house every tuesday (it was an open mic night), they point of me going was to socialize (i unfortunatly have no musical or literary talent to speak of, so i wouldnt be preforming) and i did meet some really great people, but my favorite part was watching these artist play or recite or sing, it was the same thing when people talk about their passions,they would light up preforming. and each person had a different stance, a unique way of preforming (ant would stick his right arm behind his back andpull his hair over his eyes, bruce would stand proud and bounced of his heels a little sometimes raising one of his hands, pete would only look at his guitar, jolee would stand on her toes..) everyone had their own thing, but they all had this blissful look on their face, it was amazing.

it really is an beautiful thing to watch, if you havnt experienced it, i gotta tell you, your missing out! next time your hanging out with friends, or relatives, or maybe even someone you dont know all that well, ask them ‘what do you love?’ just watch, they will illuminate!

so, what do you love?? 3 years ago

in my senior year of high school i took a great moral questions class, its just like ethics if you dont know, it was one of those fluff classes that you take just for the credit an easy a pretty much, all you have to do is show up and write a few essays, but i loved that class! i just thought it was amazing, i love listening to peoples different opinions and playing devils advocate, but being the shy little person i am, i never really spoke up and stated my opinion. i always regretted it, but there was one day that really bothered me, mainly because i actually had a good point. it was the day when we talked about what really constituted a hero? what do you have to do?
so let me give you a little play by play then ill give you my point.
so we started off saying that people of service (police, firemen, army ect) should be considered heroes because the preform heroic acts. and we moved to say anyone that preforms a heroic act should be considered a hero. from that people said ‘well what if these people are really horrible outside of that act, they could be abusive or really just bad people, dose that still mean they are a hero?’ then some said only good people who preform heroic acts are hero’s. then it got a bit messy, someone asked ‘how are firemen and the police and armed forces hero’s? they are just doing their job aren’t they? how is doing your job heroic?’ alot of people got upset by that statement, but i cant disagree with that completely. i mean it is their job, they are doing what they are told to do, they signed up for it and know what they are expected to do. BUT i think it takes a special kind of person to do what they do, i know i couldn’t do it.
now my point. i dont think it matters who you are, what your job is, or whether or not your a good person or a bad. you can be a hero no matter what. it just takes one person to think you are a hero to make you one. i mean Hitler was a hero. as was Mussolini, and Stalin, and Charles Manson. they were all heros, they weren’t mine, but there were alot of people who considered them one. entire countries considered Hitler a hero, and he was a really fucked up guy but you know what people thought he was doing good, they thought he was going to save their nation. they all loved him for “cleansing the country”, he made a major impact on the world, that makes him a hero. he is just as much a hero as Gandhi, John Lennon, Martin Luther King Jr, or even Jesus.
everyone has a different point of view on hero’s. everyone has their own personal hero; it could be a political leader, a musician, a comedian, an artist, a revolutionary, a scientist, a family member, a friend, whom ever, ive got my heros and you have yours right? who are your heros? do you think im right or wrong? its open for discussion. 3 years ago

i am a HUGE book nerd, i love love love to read! out of all my hobbies it is probably my favorite!
when i find a really good book i can get so immersed in it that i dont really pay attention to anything that happens around me. if i am reading one of my favorites (like Everything is Illuminated,Perks of being a Wallflower, or Pride and Prejudice) the world could come crashing down all around me and i wouldnt notice.
Pride and Prejudice really is (in my opinion) the best love story i have ever had the pleasure of reading!
i know what your thinking, Pride and Prejudice? thats so old! so boring! who even wrote that? so lame!
i love it. Miss Elizabeth Bennett (the heroine) is the woman i would strive to be. funny, smart, beautiful, graceful, strong personality… but whats great about her was that she has faults, she is quick to judge at times and stubborn and maybe a little prideful and on top of that she is stuck with this ridiculous family, just loud, rude, and at times a bit crude, but it made her character human, believable, thats what made me love who she was. and then there is Mr.Darcy. Mr.Darcy is the catch, he is the man you want, tall, handsome, wealthy… all that shit. but again hes human he is very prideful and a bit prejudice to those who are not of his class, and he is incredibly shy, which is his main downfall it seems. thats how it is for us shy people, you have trouble handling yourself in the public eye so you come off like such an ass that people dont like you, but deep down we aren’t bad.
but in the end the two come together and its just beautiful. it really is a true love story. sometimes you read these stories that just seem so impossible and ridiculous, like well that would be nice, but this wouldn’t actually happen in real life! but in P and P its more real.
it drives me crazy when people talk about romeo and juliet and a love story. i mean Shakespeare didn’t even call it that, its a tragedy people, tragedy! and it really isn’t that romantic, the whole play lasts just about a week or two, and their courtship is just three days, day one: romeo is upset bc some chick dosnt love him, his cousin and friends drag him out and crash a party, romeo sees juliet and juliet sees romeo, the get the hot for each other, then romeo has to bounce, then romeo shows up at her window and says hey guess what i love you, then shes like yeah? me too! but our parents hate each other omg what are we going to do? hey lets get married if we do that well be together for ever! yeah lets do that! day two: romeo and juliet get married, juliet goes home, romeo goes to find his buds, meanwhile they are out and ready to fight-who know why, so mercusio fights with julies cousin romeo tries to stop them, a plague on both your houses! a plague on both your houses! mercusio is dead, romeo flips out kills his wifes cousin, he gets banished, but before he leaves he sees his wife, they have sex. day three: romeo runs away juliet fights with her family and her dad says you have to marry this dude i picked out for you or you are out on the street, she goes crazy, plans a fake death, and a letter is sent to romeo so they might run away together. now some days later romeo only knows his wife is dead so finds some poison goes to her grave and kills himself then she wakes up and kill herself. well now thats what i call a love story! what do you think? i dont know about you but i would assume a love story should have some sort of happy ending. but whatever!
now dont get me wrong i love Shakespeare! but dont get the plays mixed, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy and thats that, you want a romance take Much Ado About Nothing or A Midsummers Night Dream. Othello is my favorite! it has the best villain of all time! Iago is just so bad ass, if you dont know what im talking about stop reading right now, grab you keys and wallet go to your nearest blockbuster, hollywood video, library and get Othello on video it is amazing! actually even if you have seen it go and see it again! right now do it!
anywho i think ive run out of steam here so i will bid you adieu! 3 years ago

i had to write a narrative essay for my English class, something that happened to us with a moral or something like that, but i thought it turned out pretty well, take a gander if you like :)

In the summer of 2008 I was lucky enough to visit Cuzco Peru with my step-mom. It was really a “Homers Bowling Ball” of sorts; Chris (my step mom) had no one to go with her so she took me as my graduation present, I was excited to go, but had no real interest in Peru before hand. While in Cuzco we had made friends with one of the local street kids, Denis, who had promised to show us around. One day Denis had taken us to a local town, they were having some sort of festival that day, so there was a big celebration going on. We stopped for lunch at a place with a balcony so we could watch, an amazing sight to be seen for sure. After lunch, and a hike up some of the most breathtaking (in more ways than one) mountains I have ever seen, we boarded the local bus back to Cuzco; and thus our adventure begins.

Public busses are, as in any place you go, rather different than a tour bus, the seats
(If any remain for you to sit) are usually beat up and not very welcoming to say the least, they are crowded, they are just too hot or too cold for your comfort, and more often than not they don’t run as well as you like. Now that’s just any old public bus, but in Cuzco, well that’s in a class of its own!

Remember when I said that public busses were crowded? Well compared to this bus, it’s nothing. You’d think being from New York, and experiencing the subway during a rush hour, I would know what a crowded car looked like. That’s what you would think, but you would be wrong. You don’t know the meaning of crowded until you have been on a bus like this. For one thing this bus doesn’t have a capacity limit, if there is anyone at a stop and an inch of space you better believe that they are getting on for the ride. By the time Denis, Chris, and I had gotten on, the only space left was in the very front of the bus by the door, so that’s where we stood. Denis was directly behind the driver, Chris right next to him, and me leaning against the dash. I didn’t think it would be a bad ride, by any means, until I looked out the window. You see this part of Peru is in the mountains, not just in the mountains but atop the mountains, because of this, the roads are all built into the sides of it forming what seem to be cliffs.

Heights don’t scare me, I mean I had just climbed up and down mountains, through ruins, being up high doesn’t scare me, it’s the falling. Falling down to my death, that’s what scares me; and according to where I was standing, that possibility, was at large. This driver of ours was just zipping around these mountains, on every turn I was certain that he would miss judge just how wide the road was and we would all be plummeting to our certain deaths, but thankfully, he knew his route well, and this wasn’t the end.

Along the way we had picked up a few more passengers. Two of which were Americans, the first we had seen all day, they were on their honeymoon. The woman stood on the stairs across from me and the man had squeezed in the aisle (God knows how) and was holding on to the baggage rack above. The man really stuck out like a sore thumb, he was fair skinned, blonde hair, and over 6ft tall, the tallest one on the bus by far. We talked to them about where we were from, and how we liked Peru, the man was fluent, so he tested my six years of high school Spanish, needless to say its not very good. They only expressions I knew well were “cuanta cuesta?” “donde esta…?” and “dos coca-colas, por favor” not exactly top-notch. I have to say, speaking to this couple and practicing my horrible broken high-school Spanish had really distracted me from the oh-so-near cliffs we were speeding by. But I also noticed the longer I was squished up against the window, and the more I took a chance by looking out the window, the more comfortable I was. I realized I wasn’t the only nervous one either. The newly wed bride, was far closer to the door than I, and grasped the bar a little tighter on every turn. Chris, she was worse off than both of us, she was very convinced today was our last day, and practically became the drivers bodyguard, always asking the passengers to not touch the driver in case he were to slip or make a false turn, it was insane. When I saw her doing this, I couldn’t help but laugh, it was silly. When I thought about it logically, this man driving us, had been doing this a long time, he grew up here, he knew what the roads were like, its not like this was his first day on the job or he just hopped off a plan from Timbuktu. So I had to laugh at myself for getting so scared. And now that’s how I have to handle any fear. Laugh at it, find the silliness in it. I had once heard in a movie (and don’t think this strange, but it was Disney’s Lion King) “Danger? I laugh in the face of danger! Ha! Ha! Ha!” so that is what I do. If I don’t, then I would just go on being afraid, and who wants needs that? 3 years ago