Await Your Reply by Dan Chaon

A recent high school grad runs off with 30-something teacher to a rickety lighthouse that could be a set of a horror film. A slightly chubby clerk at a magician shop searches for his insane but genius twin brother, who had reoccurring nightmares as a child of a pirate slitting his throat and tossing him into the ocean depths. A college student fakes his own death after he discovers he was adopted by his Wonder bread, “Leave It To Beaver” parents, and goes off to instigate identity theft schemes via the Internet. All these stories are connected, in Dan Chaon’s Await Your Reply.

The book starts out with three different story lines, which intertwine, a little too late and almost suddenly. Still, each character has an interesting background and the situations they face, especially high school student, Lucy, and her mysterious former teacher and current lover, George. The book brings a hint of supernatural, with Miles recalling images of his twin brother, Hayden, recounting him how he remembers how he died in past lives and dabbles in all things ghosts. Though the book is not a horror, Chaon’s inspirations have been Lovecraft and King.

Here is an exert from my favorite part of the book (does not give anything away):

But now, standing in the dried-out basin of the lake, on the steps of the old church where the body of a carp had mummified among a clump of cobwebbed moss–now she could easily magine the United States was gone; the cities were burnt and the highways glutted with rusting cars that never made it out of town. “It’s funny,” George Orson was saying. “My mother used to tell us you could see the steeple underneath the water when it was clear–which was a myth, naturally, but my brother and I used to come out here on the pontoon and dive down, looking for it. We’re probably about–what would you say?–pretty close to the middle of the lake, and you have to imagine it was fairly deep at the time….”She could see it. She could imagine being at the bottom of the lake–the membrane of the water hovering above them like the surface of the sky, and the rippled shadow of the pontoon boat, and figures of the boys in the diffuse blue-green light, their silhouettes like birds skimming the air.

Running makes me :)

If you ever saw the film, What Women Want, you might recall Helen Hunt’s character thinking up an inspirational advertising plan involving a woman running, early in the morning on the side of the road. The traffic is close to zero, the sunrise is just peaking up, the pounding of the tennis shoes hit the payment. “I want to be her,” she exclaims!

For some, running is like jabbing a hundred little needles in the skin, but, for me, it’s a release, a burst of freedom, and an instant happy pill. I’ve been running ever since I was in fourth grade, back when running a mile was a battle. 14 years later, I’m jogging alongside Kelly Drive, passing East Falls, finishing up a ten plus run.

And it felt pretty good.

Earlier, I had sunk into a swing of depression, a heavy, spiky weight leading me down into a cold, dark cavern that might end. But, I decided to skip a nap and go for a long run, from Manayunk to the Art Museum steps and back. The trek renewed, inspired and strengthened me.

Some people have yoga, shooting hoops at their driveway or playing guitar. I have running. Find and embrace your running, whatever it is.

It’s Pronounced “Moooooter”

This Sunday marked the first time that I finally went to the Mutter Museum, located on 22nd and Chestnut Street. This museum, part of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia, features skulls of prostitutes and jailbirds, an oversized colon that looks like a tube worm from a science fiction film, the liver of the “Siamese Twins” Chang and Eng, epidermis tissue in little glass jars and more cringe-worthy marvels.

The Quay Brothers’ film about and playing at the museum, ‘Weeping Glass’ captures the space’s weirdness, highlighting positively archaic medical instruments, the painful art of foot binding, Chang and Eng’s death story, deformed fetuses and more.

If you are a Philadelphian who hasn’t “Muttered” yet, go do it! It’s open Monday through Sunday, 10 am to 5pm.

Why (I think) I’m Veg has to do something with Scales

A couple weeks ago, I finished reading Hal Herzog’s Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat, an anthrozoological book studying the Western attitudes towards animals. This was not a Peta-thumping book at all–Hal Herzog eats meat and paints cock fighters in a sympathetic light–but the book shows how contradictory our perspective on animals can be.

The section that interested me the most was titled “Meat Avoidance and Eating Disorders: The Dark Side of Vegetarianism”. The section stated, while being vegetarian does not mean you have an less-than-healthy body image, studies have shown that proclaimed vegetarians are more likely to have an eating disorder. University of Minnesota researchers reported vegetarian teens are almost twice as likely than their meat-eating peers to diet frequently, and a University of Pennsylvania study found they are more obsesssed with their weight, diet and binge and purge more than omnivores.

Herzog’s colleague, Candace Boan-Lenzo studies eating disorders in young women, and quotes that, “vegetarianism does not cause people to become anorexic or bulimic. But some people, particularly teenage girls with these tendencies, use vegetarianism as a way to cover up their eating disorders…”

This section made me revisit my reason for why I decided to be vegetarian: Is my reason for being vegetarian really solely for the mistreatment of animals in factories?

Yes, this is a part of it. I know it’s cliche, but after watching those PETA videos of chickens’ beaks being snapped off and cows being probed, living in tight quarters waiting for their death, I broke down, soaked in real tears and vowed to go veg. Animals have always been important to me. I feel a kindredness towards them. Maybe it’s a combination of my love for Disney movies, my pet guinea pigs and spending time in nature as a child. I don’t get people who “just don’t get animals.”

However, my reason is not purely that of an animal activist. Like the onions in my Greek salad, there is more complexity and layers to my method of munchie madness. And some of it stinks selfish.

Though I have never had a full-fledged eating disorder, my body image and relationship with food, especially with college, has been less than perfect. I have attempted many diets, some unhealthy, and went through a binge-and-purge period my sophomore and junior year of college.

The first time I proclaimed I was vegetarian (though it was more pescatarian because I still ate fish), it was freshman year at Temple University. I was trying to control my weight, due to nights out guzzling beer at frat parties, something I had never done before. Meat equalled fat and actual meals. Not eating chicken or beef gave me the illusion that I was “making up” for all the calories I was consuming from my unhealthy lifestyle, though the pizza and packed salads along with the beer didn’t make me any skinnier. In fact, when I stopped drinking heavily, the weight peeled off quickly.

So basically, being vegetarian doesn’t mean I have shrunken to a size nothing–I still eat cheese and carbs galore–but, I do believe one of the reasons why I have decided to go vegetarian has to do with the desperate attempt to control my weight. Using the “veg” card is an excuse to skip a meal and just stick with salad. I get the false illusion that if I’m not eating hearty meat-and-potatoes dinners, I will become skinner.

To sum it up, the vegetarian excuse can cover an eating disorder with a morally-charged jacket.

Any other vegetarians think their intention might be weight control/body image related? If so, what do you make of your dietary decision?

Sent from my iPad

Move to Manayunk, PA

I just moved into Manayunk, ready to start a new adventure in a brand new, bustling place. For my mailing address (and no, I am NOT posting the full on here, stalkers), my city is Philadelphia, which makes me feel like I’m back in the fast-paced, exhilaring life again. Living with Conshohocken was fun with my sister though. There were plenty of younger people around and bars like 8East and Guppy’s were a lot of fun on the weekends. But Manayunk seems to be a little less sleepy, which makes me very excited to be part of it all.

Of course, there is a payment that must be made for such a place, besides the rent. Parking in Manayunk proves to be quite a search. Last night, I parked about 7 blocks away. On the positive side, maybe all this walking will cut down on gym time! Only if I do not stuff myself silly from all the wonderful food that is around. Yesterday, I checked out Whirled Peace, a new frozen yogurt shop, with my mother and sister. I scarfed down dulce de leche organic yogurt with carob chips and mochi. It felt like  a spring day yesterday, so we ate outside. Besides watching all the gorgeous men strutting, I loved seeing all of their cuddly canines of all shapes and sizes.

I’m ready to explore the thrift shops, restaurants, pubs and everything!

Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris

Close your eyes, and envision strolling through Paris, in the middle of the night, midnight, precisely. The street lights shine hazily on the cobblestone and on the glass of bakeries. It is cool out, the perfect weather to match this immaculate city. Then, you are greeted by an old automobile, which serves as a time machine, transferring you into a world where you rub shoulders with Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali and Cole Porter.

Such a fantasy-come-true(or does it, really?) exists for the protagonist of Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris”. A hopeless romantic screenwriter (Owen Wilson) striving to be a brilliant, starving artist holed up in a run-down Parisian studio escapes his uppidity fiance(Rachel McAdams) and her parents at night, entering what he considers to be The Golden Age, 1920’s Paris. He finds himself crossing paths with the beautiful girlfriend of Picasso and questions his own plans of matrimony.

I was so appealled by the escapism aspect of the film. Of course, the movie does not take itself too seriously…there are plenty of humorous moments, like the time Wilson’s character is caught leaving with his fiance’s pearl earrings, in the hopes of giving them to his 1920’s fling. Adrien Brody’s portrayal of Salvador Dali is very amusing as well. Rent this movie!

Elizabeth Wurtzel’s Prozac Nation

Though the book is published in the Nirvana nineties, I can identify with Wurtzel’s thoughts polluted by depression, and I have only finished reading up to page 62. She grew up living a middle-class, generally comfortable life, minus an irresponsible father and her parents’ divorce (my parents are still married). She was enlisted in tennis lessons, went to summer camp where they held prayer by the flagpole every morning and was beautiful and healthy. But, gradually, around puberty, she just started feeling like a burden, like everything was pointless, that life was a painful facade. She also felt ugly and uncomfortable in her own casing: “I felt that I was wrong–my hair was wrong, my face was wrong…How could I walk around with such pasty white skin, such dark,doleful eyes, such straight, anemic hair, such round hips and such a small cinched waist?”. In middle school, I remember feeling big, hairy, pimply and gross, unlike all the skinny,tan girls around me with light blonde hair on their arms. Something was not graceful or beautiful about me, or so I thought. I dwelled on my imperfections, and therefore felt like a beast.

Unlike Elizabeth, I never overdosed on allergy medicine at summer camp, or cut my legs with a razor in the locker room during lunch. I had different ways of coping, some not very healthy and which I choose not to mention here. I am looking forward to reading the rest of this book, and will keep you updated on what I find moving and noteworthy about the book.

Ever read Prozac Nation? Thoughts?

More random thoughts

“In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an infinite summer.” -Albert Camus

“Where do you see yourself in the next five years?” They used to ask her,when she was leaving college and prepared to leave the stone walls and proceed into “the real world.” She would stare into their eyes for A few seconds, and give some empty, shelled answer about how all she wanted was to be loyal to a comfortable, corporate organization.

The truth was, she feared she would never fly, know what it was like to be free, unhinged, the judge in her own court. For her whole life, she had felt scared to take chances and leave the comforts of a family meal-type life. Though she loves the supper life, she never tried to nibble at something else, to take some bites of a brand new sushi. “Life is too expensive,” she said, or, “Now isn’t the time.”

Life will never be the ideal time. Every moment is just as ideal as the next. Might as well take the first bite. She wants to live life as a bird, flying. Tired of letting little imperfections bring her and her loved ones down, she is ready to fly, fly, fly….

I’m Back

I have not written my thoughts on here in awhile. It feels nice to be back in the swing, soaking everything in, ready to write some of my feelings.  Right now, I simply feel hopeful about moving forward with life. The lights on the farm house are lit, revealing the deer footprints in the glistening snow. Life is here, there is hope. The footsteps trail off into the distance, in the dark woodlands, full of mystery and promise. The heart beats fast, there is no guarantee bear and spirits are not there to stun, frighten. But, it is better to move into the unknown, in the chilly weather than staying in captivity behind the wooden walls of the empty barn, where everything stays still. Even the cattle has left. Time to go.

I’m not sure what I want to find when I’m entering the woodlands, and I know fear and failure might overtake my heart sometimes, clouding my judgement with emotions that seem almost unbearable. But now is the time. Approach people that interest and challenge me. Date for fun, accept being single. Enjoy people for who they are. Move out. Explore new surroundings. Stay optimistic. Aspire and dream.

Over the past year, my mind has entered some really, really dark places that I will not expand upon here at the moment. I have felt so low, there has been times when I did not think I would ever be able to get back up. My moods and hopelessness have frustrated my close family and friends, almost to the point of giving up. I was giving up, but now, I have found the will to move on, to keep dreaming and keep hoping. Life is only going to get better from here. I end with one of my favorite quotes:

“Every wall is a door” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

Happy Halloween!

 

 

Dress from Boothwyn Goodwill…$5

Pearl necklace and earrings…$5

Tiara from two years ago, when I was Holly Golightly for the first time

Gloves from two years ago, when I was Holly Golightly for the first time

A cigarette holder from two years ago, when I was Holly Golightly for the first time

 

A repeat I would happily repeat again!