Acceptance of others – a wisdom worth learning. 5/365

Just finished watching ‘Due Date.’ http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1231583/ It had its good moments, so I can’t say I disliked it. Three thumbs up, may be? But worth a watch. The strength of the film is the cast.

Besides making you think about that cross-country road trip that you’ve always wanted to take, it had some chuckles and some of life’s bigger lessons. What stood out for me was the growing comfort and friendship of total strangers despite irrationally bazaar events and circumstances of everyday life, caused by one of them, mostly. Robert Downey Jr. and Zach Galifianakis (the guy from Hangover) were a good match for the characters.

Alas, the world is big enough to hold the “weird” people and the “normal” people at the same time. Each character learns to accept the other for exactly who they are. So whether you think you’re on the “weird” side or part of the “normal” bunch, my suggestion is to learn to accept. You will be doing yourself a favor of a lifetime.

Oh Haribo, Haribo. How I love thee, Haribo. (4/365)

A burst of sugar as you chew on its gummy marshmallow combination that eventually sweetly melts in your mouth. I love the Strawberry Haribo! The experience is a memory of its own. I haven’t been able to just have one or two of them after purchasing a bag, so typically about half a bag is devoured in one sitting. Atrocious, I know. So much sugar, but it is worth the sacrifice.

Too bad that it is only (to my knowledge) available in Europe. Although, I haven’t actually tried searching for it beyond the typical grocery and candy stores in the metropolitan cities. I wonder if there is a black market for them in the US. That reminds me to check out E-bay!

So to my pleasant surprise, just a few days ago a very dear former flatmate/friend from Germany who I had the fun of living next to in the UK university, sent me some. This is how much of an impression and an international sensation my discovery and love of Haribo strawberries has made. This seemingly simple and inexpensive parcel brought so many sweet memories. Among the 14 of us living on the same floor (we each had our own room): 8 were from China, 1 from India, 1 from Pakistan, 2 from Italy, 1 from Germany, leaving me, the Russian/American born in Ukraine. I was the most native English speaker on the floor, which was ironic.

Thank you my German friend! My mouth is truly grateful for your offer of sweetness.

No coffee for me! (3/365)

Coffee! Many of us long for it as soon as we wake up, may be even dream of it. As soon as I came out of the train station in City Hall I continued thinking about that first morning sip of coffee flavor and sweetness. Surprisingly, it is not the caffeine that I crave. To my despair, however, I realized that I do not have any cash. Not a dollar! I enjoy those credit card accepting venues such as a Starbucks (I have the Gold Member card) or a Dunkin Donuts once in a while. My morning preference, however, is the guy on the corner. One of the many owners of the breakfast places on wheels. Unfortunately for me, he only takes cash.

Yes, he does not offer decaf, or skim/soy milk, or raspberry flavors. I won’t even mention the shmacaccinos, etc. He is right next to the entrance door to the office building, so in this freezing weather I do not want to have to defrost my bare fingers after carrying the coffee for a block and a half. The medium coffee cup is only $1, instead of an average $4 cup you know where.

The guy knows me! He begins making my cup of coffee no questions asked, with a smile, as soon as he is done servicing the previous customer on the line. He is not over-caffeinated as Starbucks baristas are. I do not have to repeat my order a few times as I frequently have to do in DD (I’m not ordering pharmaceuticals, just medium coffee with milk and sugar). Most importantly, I feel as if I am actively contributing to the growth and prosperity of the local economy.

End of this morning’s story, I was left without coffee. This only means that I will have the pleasure of indulging in my next first morning sip. May be I should find out the guy’s name? Would that be a NYC thing to do?

Winter in NYC, deal with it! (2/365)

Fine, today was really dangerous as ice and sleet covered many of the sidewalk corners of NYC streets and helped pedestrians to fall. Generally, however, even as recently as Monday, why are New Yorkers so grudgingly surprised about a snowy winter? This ain’t no Florida. If you want warmer climate, then feel free to move to a warmer climate. There are plenty of them out there, and they do not require international travel.

Personally, I prefer snowy winters to earthquakes in Northern California, or Hurricanes of the South Florida. In fact, it was this winter of 2010/2011 and all of its 8 winter storms (and counting) that I realized how much I really missed snow. I am talking about the real kind, the kind that you can build a snowman/woman with, ride the slay and have a snowball fight with. I especially like the fluffy snowflakes that suddenly and gently fall from the sky as you’re suppressing the urge to catch them with an open mouth.

Perhaps I am alone in this, and am one of the very few that associate snow and winter fun with childhood memories and friends. For me these happened to be across the big Atlantic Ocean somewhere on the outskirts of Eastern Europe. These are memories of truly harsh winters, food shortages, power outages and dark tree trunks covered in icicles, all under a gray and fierce sky. Despite all that, I smile as I remember my childhood best friends and the neighborhood kids as we all spent our snowy weekends outside in the courtyard.

All the seasons are beautiful and with all the evidence of a global climate change, we should really cherish them. That being said, I am ecstatic that Spring will be coming early, according to Punxsutawney Phil . I wonder how many inches of snow the groundhog had to dig before appearing?

Between a rock and an equally hard other rock? (1/365)

My head is spinning. Lack of sugar? Perhaps growing impatience with worrying about other people doing the right thing. Is it right, anyway? My way obviously doesn’t work for others. Although perhaps it also doesn’t always and necessarily work for me. Pressure to do the right thing, when the right thing is apparently subjective.

This also means that you may be torn between a number of “the right thing to do” opinions. The ones that feel like equally correct but opposite ideas that exist at the same time. Or if they are not opposite in and of themselves they require different actions that are independently and mutually exclusive of each other.
I wonder if or what the philosophical term for the dilemma may be? I am sure there is one, as this is surely not the first or the last time a person happened to be placed or put themselves into a similar position.

That is why diplomacy is more of an art than a science probably. Although both can be mastered through mere talent or gained skill. Make everyone, including yourself, happy. A possibly possible task. Everyone should be able to just get along, we’re not fighting wars here people, we’re just trying to fulfill that simple human social need of maintaining friendships.

Forum d'Artist

The artist's life seems but a dream. With so much passion and desire with much ambition and pride it is still a made up reality of a potentially happy life. The life, stress free? Worry free? Budget free? Or is it all about the budget?

It is sad. It is sad that going after one's dream or at least a curiosity is impractical, unrealistic and finally silly. What happened to one's search for one's calling? After all, don't we have all the resources and opportunities at our disposal? Why can't we also have the support and belief that one should do what one is happy with, what one is good at? Isn't there room for all in this big world?

What makes things more complicated is the need and desire to respect and give thanks to the very people who gave you life and tried to arrange their own lives in a way that makes your world of opportunities limitless.

AVIDidea

What does your previous address say about you?

1543 East 17th Street

Immigration.

Looking out into a dark window of a cold snowy December night, with tears in my eyes I tell my mom: "Can we go back?"

Interesting how things change as I keep thanking my parents for the courage of taking two little kids into a strange country with no promise, just hope. The grattitude for the American dream is neverending as I keep trying to find ways to show my parents how happy and lucky I am. I try to give back as much as I can.

I wish my brother felt the same way. He doesn't know any better, and it is sad.

All the fears then. All the smiles now. The sun is out. Spring is here. I am smiling.