Pulse 87

The insomnia is back.
I found my old Walkman and turned on the radio. Stumbled upon WNYZ 87.7 while I was resetting the preset stations. It's a Rhythmic CHR station which basically means it plays dance club music. So now I can go deaf while I go loopy from lack of sleep. Yay.

So tonight's excitement, I met a bunch of dancers on my way home tonight. I was a little drunk as I walked my way back to Union Square after a PG-13 night on the town. I'd passed by several large herds of newbie NYU kids and I assumed the crew on the uptown BMT platform was the same. A W train pulled in and they seemed to be waiting for an N, so I told them to get on. We all boarded together and sat down, but an N train pulled into the express track, so we all changed over and got seats on the express. I was feeling chatty, so I started talking to my neighbor, Lindsey, and eventually was talking to the whole crew (Mandy, Laura, Francesco) about bad choreographers, poor turnout and the upcoming dance/performance season. My own performance on the ride back to Queens was apparently so impressive that the woman sitting across from me started smiling and talking to Laura even though she didn't know any of us. I overheard her say something like, "Only in New York can you have complete strangers blah blah on the train...", but right then the N pulled into my stop.
I believe in NY and I believe that NY believes in Sang. :)

Beijing 2008

It's been two weeks of nonstop Olympics viewing in my house.
And it was an exhilirating two weeks to be sure.
Now I have to go back to my normal life which seems diminished in comparison to the drama and the spectacle of the Olympics.
Everything seems a little less.
And it is.

Breath

So I have this problem, well, I don't know if it's actually a problem, more like a disconnect between my inner and outer lives. Of course, to even write or complain about this sort of thing is ridiculously self-involved, but the who the hell is reading this blog anyway? There aren't enough pics on this blog to warrant checking back on a regular basis (most of the pretty/party pics are in the NY Miscellany blog). The reason I mention this "problem" at all is that I happened to revisit my old Xanga blog, which was refreshingly frank compared to this one (also a somewhat painful walk down memory lane). I just wrote what I felt, no matter how puerile or paranoid or desperate. Not that I want to feel that way again, those were some shitty, shitty nights when I was writing back then, but it feels more real looking back on it now. And there were some moments of joy and hope. Most of the entries in this blog have been rather bloodless and clinical, not exactly in keeping with the title "Ich will dir mein Herze schenken". So on the eve of another half-birthday, I'll finally get around to what I should have done in the beginning - give you my heart.