addie and lots of coffee.

In a world with unlimited choice how do you know you have the best?

Well, you have to examine all the possiblites but there are too many in reality, so you examine a few, and just have to just pick one. Then you are convinced or have the feeling you should keep looking for something better because you're afraid you didn't pick the best.. but if you are out looking for 'good enough' you find something that meets your standards and you dont look back, and in general you are much more satisfied with your choices.

Posted by itp at 06:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

rajasthan india, originally uploaded by add+e.

(i feel as if every facet of my brain has shifted into some incomprehensible mess. everything has decayed into something unrenderable. the door keeps opening and slamming as a result of the draft (wind?). it's quite strange if you actually look at it.)

weaving in and out of crowds, restaurant row and the eager indian waiters on 1st Ave. sweaty palms and the saline of heat in the hanging new york air. but see, it's not quite spring, months before the calendars deems the shift in seasons. i'm wearing three layers, that shirt you like and the sweater that's too loose in the back but comes to a handkerchiefed point in the front; i'm also wearing a down jacket you gave me after NOLS. it's not really hot at all, in fact it's dipping below 10 degrees and I keep wearing that sand colored coat mom hates. i keep on tripping over those closed basement doors that lie not-so-flush with the sidewalk, i try to play into my falls as if it's just a figment of my anger, burning into a firey ember causing me to loose my footing. i trip a few more times and skulk off in my reticence. 'exit' wispers the wind, 'run away'.

your hairs are still on the couch and i can't be coalesced into apologizing for myself yet again. i wonder if you think i look ugly, because i know sometimes you do.

Posted by itp at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

i want the deep, down silent things that are locked in your heart.

the beautiful innuendos of future, the streaming bittersweet decline, the inanimate objects we call home. my discarded, heartless ramblings, destined to never see seriousness until the light at the end of the tunnel flickers out.

the hovering bird goes to sleep.
go back to bed.

all i want is to put my hands between your ribs and know that i'm somewhere in there.

Posted by itp at 09:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

light in the darkness, originally uploaded by girl_onthe_les.

its been a little dark lately in this corner of the world. you know, the kind of darkness you won't even talk about because then, well, then it makes it real.

Posted by itp at 11:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

phone rings on the floor
male student answers "hello"
silence on phone.
male student "hello? . . . I think its one of the plants calling, it needs water."

Posted by itp at 10:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

heres the you i knew before my shoulder hurts. it has been like this for six months. don't know what's wrong. i sit on my ass for 17 hour a day and don't really move apart from going to pick up food. this is the ny city glamor i always heard about.

one more year. my birthday is soon. it will be even more strange. i will be alone in my room. i will get a cupcake and order some delivery and make a wish. i am almost positive. one more year. people tell me that i have so much going on and so many things to be grateful for / proud of. i just never see things that way.

not sure why.
it's never enough.
it's never good enough.

i look for people that are different from me. they are not hard to find in ny. most if not all are vastly so. i dont own 300 dollar jeans or carry purses with names on them. i am not skinny i dont smoke or do pilates. it's close to impossible for me to get along with them when we speak different languages. they just float. day for day. most. not all.

how are you? are you well? are you happy?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. one more year.

Posted by itp at 01:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I finished my first semester of graduate school today. *throws confetti. *

Posted by itp at 10:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm starting to think more and more, that if I am wanting to change the world, sitting in front of my computer is the last thing I should be doing.

I've been looking a lot at what to do this summer, theres what I feel like I should be doing, which is what everyone else is doing: working at google, yahoo or apple and what I want to be doing: traveling.

I've started interviewing for part time jobs next semester, even with 18 credits I feel like I can work at least 10-15 hours more and have enough in the bank to leave for the summer as long as I budget it right.

Stef and I have been talking about summer plans, probably spending 2 months in Denmark, and 2-3 months going back to Nepal and Tibet or Pakistan. The Karakorm Highway on bike still really looks appealing as does riding to Laos from Kathmandu. Problem is the rain season starts in June which is about when the trip would be starting so maybe that won't happen this year.

Anyone know much about grants or fundrasing?

Posted by itp at 10:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

confession: I totally lied to my advisor when he asked me how this term went. I told him I thought everything was fine and the work load was easy and problem free.

I didn't want to tell him the truth because I was afraid he'd say I was stupid and should of never come here.

Posted by itp at 02:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Survived my dad coming and going for the holiday. Not having my mom with him was really weird. I'm nervous about going home.

Continue reading "post holiday. T minus 3 weeks." »

Posted by itp at 10:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

a girl having a conversation with her dad at the MoMa Design store in midtown today:

20-something girl: Dad, isn't this bracelet cute?! It was made just for you, look it says Dada on it.

Dad: silent

20-something girl: I mean, we have to get one for you, they totally made these for Dads!

Dad: Um, Dada was the name of a surrealist movement.

20-something girl: oh, that they like, named after dads?

Posted by itp at 10:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I saw the following written on the sidewalk as I was walking all about a mile or so apart:

"you wanted to know.."

"home sweet home?" [with a picture of the city]

"you are out of your element.'

Posted by itp at 11:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by itp at 11:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I feel like I've just been bleeding money here. I hate not having a decent income and student loans which are as large as the GNP of a small country.

I'm really afraid of flunking out of school. I feel like I'm getting a Masters of Emailing and Socializing, and I am not a social person, I avoid being at school a lot because I don't feel I get much done here but a lot of talking and eating and I just.don't.have.the.time.or.money.to.waste.

Undergrad was always about your grades, we had test, we had assignments and we actually got tangible feedback, but grad school at ITP? Nothing. We get a check next to our name if we did it and do a lot of praying that the teacher feels 'we are pushing our own limits' and 15 weeks of guessing to see if they feel that way.

Ive been having nightmares about school or about being kicked out for not being on the floor 'enough' I want to be excited and I want to be passionate about my program; instead I'm going through the motions.

My therapist calls it detached. I call it depressed, feeling really fucking out of place and working out of fear not passion or faith. I'm bleeding money, and I'm not earning anything, I'm just a drain.. and that fucking sucks..

It is not the getting through thats getting to me but the thinking about getting through that brings the suffering. The getting through is mechanical. It's the thinking that makes me crazy.

I'm trying to remember that this is not the end of the world, but the beginning.

Such a self is present, though perhaps mute. Part of me knows that everything is going to be just fine. That is the wise, quiet, strong me. That is the me that gets through stuff, that knows what to do. where is the strong, disciplined, patient, enduring self in me? come back.

I'm not even faith. It's not faith at all really; It's sitting and doing.

Posted by itp at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

the difference between programmers and artist is that artist can make beautiful things out of code while programmers make functional things..
is it possible to have such a thing as balance in a single person?

Posted by itp at 02:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I can't help but wonder how people can attend this program and not have to work almost full time.

I'm not sure how I am going to pull this all of next semester.

Posted by itp at 10:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

New York is an exhausting place for me.

I've been back in the city for about a month now and I feel like I've been awake for the whole month. When Midori said you would live at school once it started, she wasn't kidding. Its hard to leave and no matter how late you stay, someone always wants to know your reason for going home.

The floor is amazing, and the people here are brilliant and funny and extremely driven but I'm realizing this place isn't reality for those of us who will be leaving in two short years. Maybe I'm scared or a control freak or just worried about ending up homeless under the bridges trying to explain to the Stafford people why I can't pay them back the 385943583498573498754395739075398 dollars I owe them.

I've been struggling a lot with the fear of working a 'real' job while here, and how I will miss out on everything that school is going to be about. Although, I know, I also have a reality to deal with that others who are choosing to live through different means don't have to think about.

I need a job.
I'm just not sure how to do it all.

I'm not looking for a pity party but the 7am alarm clock and the 2am bedtime (on a good night) just aren't going to mix for much longer. My migraines are coming back and I've pretty much been sick since I got here.

I want to be super women, but I haven't managed to find the secret just yet.

Posted by itp at 07:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)