Wildwood 2009, still nothing has changed

I have spent 5 hours today reorganizing and uploading images to my flickr account that has dormant for a long while now. So as I am desperately aiming to create a posting today I suggest (or wish) that you view my recently added images of Wildwood. at my flickr account and you get get to my older post of Wildwood here on my bog which takes you to an amazing video of the social culture in Wildwood that takes place in the 90's.
I was fortunate enough to take a mini vacation there this Labor day. The hotels have everything you need in one: pool, miniature golf, bbq pits, shuffle board, balconies and a theme. I still love it like I did when I was 6.

I heart New York

A collaboration of observations and thoughts that passed last night.

Last night I went out for a run after work to the Brooklyn Promenade to work the bugs out, raise my spirits, and have my endorphins lift upward like baby moths to light.

Once along the promenade I fell deep into 'there is no place on earth like New York' syndrome. It was dusk and the pink-peach sun had spread and stretched out below and behind Wall Street reaching Lady Liberty. There was a good amount of people out admiring it while taking in these last nights of summer.

I feel chills when I see my fellow human race share the same sights of splendor as I do. It's like telepathy. I never have to experience any observation alone, as there is always someone to share it with my without words.

I ran up and down one lap and circled around again till the sun had completely set, arm length visions of small cell phones LCD screens looked like fire flies blinking and floating around. Why do I always long for summer when I know it is leaving. Hmmm that could say a lot about my dating pattern, huh? Speaking of which… as my reoccurring love affair with this city seduced me, my head began to make noise….. beautiful city, non-committal men, grandiose city, finicky men, superior and all encompassing city, insatiable men. God, I love you city, ugh forget men. You’ll always be my one true love New York, and the men can continue to set and rise like peach-pink sunsets over your big, protective all-giving hunky soul.

I heart New York

A collaboration of observations and thoughts that passed last night.

Last night I went out for a run after work to the Brooklyn Promenade to work the bugs out, raise my spirits, and have my endorphins lift upward like baby moths to light.

Once along the promenade I fell deep into 'there is no place on earth like New York' syndrome. It was dusk and the pink-peach sun had spread and stretched out below and behind Wall Street reaching Lady Liberty. There was a good amount of people out admiring it while taking in these last nights of summer.

I feel chills when I see my fellow human race share the same sights of splendor as I do. It's like telepathy. I never have to experience any observation alone, as there is always someone to share it with my without words.

I ran up and down one lap and circled around again till the sun had completely set, arm length visions of small cell phones LCD screens looked like fire flies blinking and floating around. Why do I always long for summer when I know it is leaving. Hmmm that could say a lot about my dating pattern, huh? Speaking of which… as my reoccurring love affair with this city seduced me, my head began to make noise….. beautiful city, non-committal men, grandiose city, finicky men, superior and all encompassing city, insatiable men. God, I love you city, ugh forget men. You’ll always be my one true love New York, and the men can continue to set and rise like peach-pink sunsets over your big, protective all-giving hunky soul.

Wildlife in NY on the Highline

Wildlife in NY on the Highline

Last night's beautiful sunset

Last night's beautiful sunset

TGI Friday! dare to bare your flare!

So after a friend initiated an uproar on FB by posting plans for a TGI Fridays setting a home in Union square, I like many others, felt depressed and cheated once more. I feel that New York has officially become the Midwest.
A city that once prided itself as the anti-sprawl, has become a strip mall. Gone are the days of social revolution, confrontational art, liberal and off-putting honesty and beliefs.
Artists, writers, and musicians once compromised the safety and security of their hometowns to live among the junkies, and urban abandonment, the crime and grim to thrive off their peers; the believers, doers, thinkers and drinkers.
Welcome to the mainstream. There used to be validation to paying high rents, living in the size of our teenage bedrooms. I am no longer validated by living in an ‘epicenter’ when there are more baby strollers than bars, more gyms than clubs, and more chain restaurants than rats, I’m out.
The architecture may remain archaic,but nothing else.
There is no edge. Young people no longer come here with a purpose, they come here to shop at Abercrombie and Hollister.
The suburban, mind-numbing twits that come in from LI, NJ bring nothing to this city. A few years ago we escaped to Brooklyn to find refuge, now there are more baby boutiques than there are $12.00 packs of bodega cigarettes! Because being a Mother today means that you are the Madonna, which entitles her to snip other’s heels with her 2 coffee cup holder, and cell phone charger equipped mega stroller while they breeze off to “Whole Foods” where you spend your “Whole” pay check, while the rest us chumps shop out of our own age bracket at Trader Joes. And who can even be bothered with that West coast crap when we really only eat out any way.
Anyway, in my tangent, what I am trying to relay is that I’m bored, and now trying to figure out why it is I continue to compromise as much as I do for what I left behind me in the first place!

TGI Friday! dare to bare your flare!

So after a friend initiated an uproar on FB by posting plans for a TGI Fridays setting a home in Union square, I like many others, felt depressed and cheated once more. I feel that New York has officially become the Midwest.
A city that once prided itself as the anti-sprawl, has become a strip mall. Gone are the days of social revolution, confrontational art, liberal and off-putting honesty and beliefs.
Artists, writers, and musicians once compromised the safety and security of their hometowns to live among the junkies, and urban abandonment, the crime and grim to thrive off their peers; the believers, doers, thinkers and drinkers.
Welcome to the mainstream. There used to be validation to paying high rents, living in the size of our teenage bedrooms. I am no longer validated by living in an ‘epicenter’ when there are more baby strollers than bars, more gyms than clubs, and more chain restaurants than rats, I’m out.
The architecture may remain archaic,but nothing else.
There is no edge. Young people no longer come here with a purpose, they come here to shop at Abercrombie and Hollister.
The suburban, mind-numbing twits that come in from LI, NJ bring nothing to this city. A few years ago we escaped to Brooklyn to find refuge, now there are more baby boutiques than there are $12.00 packs of bodega cigarettes! Because being a Mother today means that you are the Madonna, which entitles her to snip other’s heels with her 2 coffee cup holder, and cell phone charger equipped mega stroller while they breeze off to “Whole Foods” where you spend your “Whole” pay check, while the rest us chumps shop out of our own age bracket at Trader Joes. And who can even be bothered with that West coast crap when we really only eat out any way.
Anyway, in my tangent, what I am trying to relay is that I’m bored, and now trying to figure out why it is I continue to compromise as much as I do for what I left behind me in the first place!

The High Line, a NY highlight

The High Line, a NY highlight

I went out for a friend's birthday Thursday night in an area Im noramlly no where near,Columbus Circle.
While stroll

After the pinnacle passing of my generation with Michael Jackson's recent death, I , a sever product of the eighties, am feeling a harder hit with the passing of John Hughes.
As a pre-teen and now as an adult , I can still recite the entirety of "16 Candles". My first true love was a twosome. A cross between "Jake and Farmer Ted. Jake symbolizing man-godliness, and Ted, the attainable, he'll-grow-into-his-own crush. They were the id and ego of my female desires. Now Claire, was my girl, she was me until the false end when her lust and grief is fulfilled. I mean don't we all dream of the hot senior leaving his HOT, but selfish and boring girlfriend for a mediocre looking gal.

God Bless John Hughes. RIP and Thank You

"Jake, you’re not going to believe this, but I had this bizarre dream, and you were in it."

"Come on Ma, I got my head gear on"

"I cant believe I just got felt up by my Grandmother"

"just one thing, Can I borrow your underpants for just 10 minutes?"

After the pinnacle and symbolic passing of my generation with Michael Jackson's recent death, and my being a severe product of the eighties, I'm feeling a harder hit with the passing of John Hughes. As a pre-teen/teen and now as an adult, I can still recite the entirety of "16 Candles". My first true love was a twosome. A cross between "Jake" and "Farmer Ted". Jake symbolized man-godliness, and Ted, the attainable, he'll-grow-into-his-own crush. They were the id and ego of my female desires. Now Claire, was my girl, she was me until the false end when her lust and grief was fulfilled. I mean don't we all dream of the hot senior leaving his HOT, but selfish and boring girlfriend for a mediocre looking gal? Well not in my high school, and not in yours, but John Hughes allowed us that glory in our psyche "high school."

TBC... I will be blogging on: Pretty in Pink" (great soundtrack), "Uncle Buck", and "Somekind of Wonderful", and possibly "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (as I was NOT a follower of this one) let the angry comments flow. Nor will I be blogging about "Home Alone". John needs to include kids because he had kids in this point in time. See blog regarding Hughe’s inner feeling towards Hollywood, his children and his best friend, John Candy. This is seriously an amazingly warm picture of John Hughes and his letters to a local teenage girl.
http://wellknowwhenwegetthere.blogspot.com/2009/08/sincerely-john-hughes.html
Also to come: The Brat pack: Where are they now. Well, we know where John Cryer is, we just don’t know WHY he is “there”.

As for Michael Schoeffling, aka. Jake Ryan, he lives with his wife Valerie Robinson, and their two teenaged children in Newfoundland, Pennsylvania, producing handcrafted furniture as the owner of a woodworking shop.Um is it me or is that hot? He is a plain ol wood workin man.

God Bless John Hughes. RIP and Thank You

"Jake, you’re not going to believe this, but I had this bizarre dream, and you were in it."

"Come on Ma, I got my head gear on"

"I cant believe I just got felt up by my Grandmother"

"just one thing, Can I borrow your underpants for just 10 minutes?"

After the pinnacle and symbolic passing of my generation with Michael Jackson's recent death, and my being a severe product of the eighties, I'm feeling a harder hit with the passing of John Hughes. As a pre-teen/teen and now as an adult, I can still recite the entirety of "16 Candles". My first true love was a twosome. A cross between "Jake" and "Farmer Ted". Jake symbolized man-godliness, and Ted, the attainable, he'll-grow-into-his-own crush. They were the id and ego of my female desires. Now Claire, was my girl, she was me until the false end when her lust and grief was fulfilled. I mean don't we all dream of the hot senior leaving his HOT, but selfish and boring girlfriend for a mediocre looking gal? Well not in my high school, and not in yours, but John Hughes allowed us that glory in our psyche "high school."

TBC... I will be blogging on: Pretty in Pink" (great soundtrack), "Uncle Buck", and "Somekind of Wonderful", and possibly "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (as I was NOT a follower of this one) let the angry comments flow. Nor will I be blogging about "Home Alone". John needs to include kids because he had kids in this point in time. See blog regarding Hughe’s inner feeling towards Hollywood, his children and his best friend, John Candy. This is seriously an amazingly warm picture of John Hughes and his letters to a local teenage girl.
http://wellknowwhenwegetthere.blogspot.com/2009/08/sincerely-john-hughes.html
Also to come: The Brat pack: Where are they now. Well, we know where John Cryer is, we just don’t know WHY he is “there”.

As for Michael Schoeffling, aka. Jake Ryan, he lives with his wife Valerie Robinson, and their two teenaged children in Newfoundland, Pennsylvania, producing handcrafted furniture as the owner of a woodworking shop.Um is it me or is that hot? He is a plain ol wood workin man.