Monthly Archives: April 2013

I am someone who has no major problems in life. Both my parents are good to me; they are strict but fun and understanding. I did not have to go through the troubles they did growing up. In a way, I wish I did endure such difficulties. I wish I grew up in the projects instead of a somewhat good neighborhood. I wish I had boy trouble in high school and had my heart broken so I could understand most girls my age. I wish that I was social, went to parties drinking alcohol. I wanted to do so many things and excel in them. But no, I have too much common sense and a mind that was raised to think before acting. I got into fights with boys and befriended boys but never really attracted them. I graduated high school never having a boyfriend. I did not really talk unless I was spoken to first. Whenever a boy showed the least bit of interest, I got very weird and my guard was standing, protecting me from them. I have never been superb in anything I have done. I have been dancing since I was five years old and developed a passion for choreographing. Yet I am not great at it, or at least I think so. When I moved to California in my junior year of high school, I felt empowered. Although I did not make friends, people thought I was excellent at dancing and that I was dangerous for coming from Brooklyn, New York. Moving back made me feel a little better—I guess I was still high on being empowered from my California classmates. It made me appreciate myself more and where I came from. It boosted my confidence. I even opened up to boys…and got my first boyfriend after I moved back.

This boy named Alberto had made my mind go crazy since the seventh grade. We attended junior high school together but we never talked; but we were aware of one another. I was not aware that I had a crush on him. I just liked to look at him and something was telling me that I needed to know him. In seventh grade, I saw him in the park I lived by with a friend. His friend recognized me and called me over to hang out with them. Them being boys, they started swinging on these bars (that were not meant to be played on). All of a sudden I see Alberto lose his grip and fall, breaking his wrist. And what did I do? I laughed. I did nothing but laugh, not because I thought it was funny. I am not sure why I laughed, but I did. It was the first time I was really ashamed of myself. I realized what happened and I was mortified. He probably hated me. All hopes of me trying to talk to him had vanished. Thinking back today, I don’t know why I hadn’t said anything to him sooner than last year. A few years later, when Facebook became big, we became Facebook friends. But we did not say one word to each other. I still sort of liked him and felt a pang in my chest when I saw that he was in relationships. Then last year he posted one of those pictures that read “like three of my pictures if you’ve ever had a crush on me.” So what did I do? I liked three of his pictures and BAM! Eight months later, my middle school crush is my boyfriend.

I really appreciated the uniqueness of the different works presented in the Rubin Museums. It was difficult to narrow down the pieces I liked because I actually learned a lot from being there. I have learned the meanings of paintings and models that I have seen all my life but have never understood. What stood out to me the most was the Nepalese Technique of Hollow Metal Casting; the process of creating model Tara. Being an art major early in high school, I like to see how certain things are crafted and constructed. The images created a step-by-step process that catches the eye of artists everywhere. I thought it was very creative and intriguing that they demonstrated each phase of the model and provided a written description of the process. I found the piece to be very inspiring. In addition to this, I thought that the production of the model made it more special considering the symbolism it contains to certain cultures. It makes me want to study more on the cultures where this model is valued heavily.

I have been into many museums concerning history before. But this one, in my opinion, was the best. All the art work there was associated the Tibetan culture. And it was very nice to be able to look at all of them. Out of all the artwork, I really enjoyed going into the Tibetan Shrine Room from the Alice S. Kandell collection. It was such a soothing place. I stopped thinking about all the work and tension and just focused on the shrine room. Its a great place to just sit and relax. I would like to go back there one day.

Yet another glass of white wine, another shot of that delicious liquor, a sip of that single malt whiskey I like I deliver to yet another table full of now familiar faces. I have been serving them all night, and they were not the most easiest guests to satisfy with their three Michelin star needs, but, you know, the bartender becomes everyone’s comrade later during the night, a few drinks on, they are now, content. It is what makes them laugh, others unscrupulously smile over the site of yet another strolling towards the restroom, and hosts cry when they’re presented with the bill – Alcohol,­ your other best friend: the life of a bartender in an Italian restaurant.

Not that I was an addict, which I by the way could have easily been in an environment that relieves stress, anger or pain with and is built upon the powerful grounds of alcohol itself. Sadly, for many it is the paved way to profitable sales for the business and at last a feeling of relaxation for the individual, both have a hard time functioning without.

Bartending and serving was the perfect job for me: a lot of work; a lot of different people; a lot of room to be the perfectionist; I truly enjoyed the responsibilities and freedoms I was given to make the most out of my time at the restaurant or, actually, to basically live for the job really.  When you work at a restaurant amongst the most visited places are the local pub, clubs, wine-cellars, wholesale businesses, occasionally your own bed, and of course the venue you work at. Yes, what a lovely time I had. Didn’t really mind the climbing gratuities as well.

It must have been about the third time I told my boss (who I happened to became good friends with) I was about the quit and move abroad/on, only this time I did. OK, perhaps I am a bit erratic, but I just rather do fun stuff impulsively instead of planning on them ten weeks ahead…   I lost my heart to so many peoples, places and events, but who was going to help me find it back again? Well, it’s me. It is me who stuffed his life full with more or less exciting and interesting stuff, but again Stuffed, too much – stuff. A big pile of sugary candy I bit myself threw, delicious ‘til the end, but sometimes heavily damaging my wisdom tooth’s and blocking my view from what I’d truly love to do.