::Death of Auto Tunes::

Love in the time of Kardashians

I miss the simple days of love. Where you met. You married. You had children. There were still the same problems. Alcoholism. Infidelity. Domestic Abuse. Recession. Death. Taxes. But it was all veiled behind fabulous elbow length gloves, and low-tipped fedoras. No one really knew what was going on in your home. No one dared question you about your husband. Or your children. Those were private intimate things. For better or worse that’s just how it was. Today we have the absolute extreme opposite. And just as damaging as it is to live behind veils and lies, its equally damaging to be too open. Too exposed. Too naked. This is the struggle I have within myself constantly. How to keep pieces of myself private and protected. But also allow myself the comfort and personal freedom that comes with being totally open and honest about my life. Its very easy to “put it all out there.” Between twitter and facebook. Foursquare. .Tagged photos. Comments. Replies. Innuendos. You can pretty much expos...

::No More Mondays::

Sometimes you find yourself at work, and you're having a particularly bad day. Your boss may be taking out some personal issue on you. You might be having some back-stabbing co-worker trying to come after your position. Maybe some slanderous office gossip. Or maybe just that all too familiar feeling of your life and soul wasting away as you stare blankly at an Excel spreadsheet on your screen. Whatever it is,we all have that "when I leave this place" fantasy in our head. You know,that day when you finally walk around the office,tell your boss EXACTLY what's been on your mind the past few years. Perhaps give a few co-workers the finger. Or a few notes on personal hygenie or whatever you've been DYING to say. My "last day" fantasy went a little bit like this: Me walking around the office. Two Middle Fingers in the air. Doing the whole "you're cool, you're cool,you're cool, fuck you I'm out." from Half Baked. Then I would pack up m...

Sounds of the Pavement - My Hip Hop Testimonial

Dear Joe, Look at me,attending your old college. I almost cried walking through the hallways, wondering if you had classes in the same room that I was now sitting in. We used to talk endlessly about the importance of education. You hated that I was wasting my brain. You had the knowledge of life that only someone facing death has. That it is too short to waste, even one hour. You were so annoyed by my lack of urgency. Floating through life, half drunk. Spending enormous amounts of money on clothes and falling in love with every man who told me I was beautiful. You hated and envied my recklessness. And now you are gone and I have inherited your sense of urgency. I'm going to Rutgers full time, while still working full time at a horribly degrading restaurant. Your horror stories from the Cheesecake Factory resonate more soundly now. But, I can tolerate the servitude, because of classes like these. My Literature in Hip Hop class has me thinking more deeply about how music has been...

Dear Joe...

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