Hits Ze Spot: 12.27.11

Once I wanted to be the greatest

Two fists of solid rock
With brains that could explain
Any feeling
No wind or waterfall could stall me
And then came the rush of the flood
Stars of night turned deep to dust

I love those lyrics. There was a time I wanted to be something more - I still do. I've just changed the definition as to what "more" is. This feeling applies to me in both realms of my career and my relationship; a third one, now that I think about it, is my life. Understandably what I'm about to go through will only scratch the surface and I hope I'll revisit each realm in more details, but an outline...

By career, I strive to add value to what I do, whether it's through what I produce or the little things like corralling morale. In my career, when I think of consumer, I don't just think of the direct consumers that receive the products that I help manage to sell, but also those that I work with, whether it's my peers or those I report to. I used to arrogantly tie monetary value to worth; with my current position I could do that - whether it's through my salary or I could tie a value of impact I've made through savings I've assisted with or providing tools to help optimize sales. However, during my two years of tenure at my current job, I've redefined the value of "more." More to me is now being able to contribute to the betterment of those around me and to myself indirectly - providing insight and or assisting with his or her professional growth; learning together. I find the products of those initiatives so rewarding. I hesitate to go into details because that will borderline gloating, but if I were to go on the feedback I've received, my inquisitive nature, my wanting to help, my dedication to the company's goal(s), my mindfulness of individual contributions, my need to be better among several others characteristics have built some great services and relationships.

With relationships, I've used to dream about the ideal love story, suffocated with romance, whereby often depicted in romantic comedies, in Victorian period movies, in poems, in prose, in novels, in philosophical rants, etc. Through my relationship with my parents, the correspondences I've had with them, and the potent statements my parents would make to me in moments of weakness made me feel obligated to hold out for someone worth their sacrifices. I wanted a love that irrationally stings from a short absence of my partner, and heals with an ease of his smile. I wanted a love that understood me without me insecurely having to go through my biography, where the smallest details are cracked windows into what could possibly explain why I am where I am, why I am who I am. I wanted a love that would love me unconditionally despite my flaws, despite my predilection for fortifying walls, despite my mood swings, my short tempered, despite my insecurity, and despite the overwhelming affection I have towards him. I wanted a love that was easy, but also difficult because both speak volumes to the worth and fate of the relationship - if it's not hard, it's not worth it; if it's not easy, it's not meant to be. I wanted the best; something intangible, something selfish.

Wisdom came with age- I've learned what I like and what I don't like. I've learned what people can change and what people can't change, at least for the most part. I've learned that I have a lot to offer but I've also learned that it will take a miracle for the person that learns to put up with me, and ends up loving me at the end of the day. I've learned that if that person comes, I have to overcome my ignorance, my insecurity, my walls, my moat, my guards, my pretenses, and so much more and let that person in.

If I were to loose him...

Through my relationships, I've learned that I won't find the prince charming, that's 100% flawless Darcy that appears in the fogged field of pride and prejudice's denouement because there would be an absence of shared growth. The person I'll be with - we'll grow together as public servants, as social citizens, as children, as human beings, as a couple, as a family, etc. We'll be crutches to each other; we'll be each other cheerleaders; we'll be each other's worst critics; we'll be each other's best critics; we'll be each other's other. "More" is no longer an ideal; more, now, is the companionship that seeks the best in each other and the companionship that provides the resources needed to each other to get to amazing places if the resources are not there - it's the shared journey to obtain those resources as well.

Wow - that was a tad gushy for me and I'm a tad embarrassed. It probably did not make any sense and I hope it didn't.

Life as a realm is probably the easiest and shortest to write. I used to wanted to contribute greatly through text, or a new way of thinking, or perhaps a cure that could save life en mass. But I've learned that to touch one life alone and to help it be the best that it could be or make it simply happy would satisfy me greatly. Sometimes it's easy to overlook something, or in this case, someone that's right in-front who might benefit from whatever assistance I could provide.

I'm not looking to change a universal way of thinking (though if I do, that would be great), I'm just looking to at least better one person's life during my lifetime. And if I succeed, I'm happy that person is in a better place than where he or she could have been.

unfounded fear?

I have this fear of committing or being too involved in this blog and/or uploading too much pictures to facebook because one day it will start charging a fee and I will not pay (because I am super cheap) and I will have to use their free trial to extract all my content and that seems way too cumbersome to me.

I could go into a Derrida rant and inquire about why I even care so much as to sharing the content of me publicly but I rather not (because It's 2:00am). Perhaps I should print each entry out or print things out at least once a week or extract it, put it in word and on a usb. But then what if the format I've saved it on become obsolete so I'm back to square one anyway? Not sure why I'm even contemplating this - talking(typing) out loud to myself. The likelihood of me revisiting my thoughts are somewhat slim - though I could see how it would be helpful if I suffer from amnesia or develop Alzheimer.

I can revisit this entry later into more detail and could just reference instead of going into the whole thing. Ok. need to run a report. Ciao ciao.

2012 Resolution Train

I always forget what my new year resolutions are as the year goes on (I'd like to believe I fulfill them all) but maybe If I record them down, I can revisit every once in a while to track how I'm (not) doing. These are by no means in order of importance, unless I come back and decide to organize them as so - I will note if it's the case.

1. Maintain healthy weight of 140; exercise 5 hours a week.
2. Eat healthy. No more late night snacks and take out, unless peer pressure is involved.
3. Visit/explore at least three cities I've never been to. (Completed: dallas, seattle)
4. Buy a piece of Eames/Eames Style furniture ( Completed: orange shell chair)
5. Better work/life balance
6. Start/finish In Search of Lost Time
7. Write more
8. Decide on JD/MBA or both.
9. Draw more
10. See one of David's basketball game
11. Be more involved with retirement planning
12. Volunteer for an organization I believe in
13. Read 50 books

I'm scared to have more so this will do. GO ME! I'll be turning 25 in two months as well so these goals are extra special. Not sure why, but it just is. Ok?

Hits Ze Spot: 12.26.11

Those two recent posts of poems (somewhere i have never travelled,­gladly beyond - E. E. Cummings + Love Sonnet 11 - Pablo Neruda) really hit the spot of how I'm feeling today, especially when paired with Amy Lowell's "A Lady," which I've included at the end of this post. Smitten - it's a good feeling.

One day someone will recite these three poems to me randomly and say these are his three favorite poems, to which I will then respond appropriately, "OMG. SHUT UP!" while smiling from ear to ear.

Where I am, I would probably settle if the person is just open to me reciting it to him and his respond isn't one of confusion or disinterest. I would settle for a warm smile as step one of adopting a cute baby together.

(Aside 1: Sometimes I see these really attractive hetero fathers with their cute babies and I want to join that club so badly, with their effortless style and charming fat.

(Aside 1.1:I have no idea where this yearning for parenting and companionship comes from; this is a lie. My mother pretty much pushes me to date a woman and provide her grandchildren as soon as I can. "I will take care of your baby. Do.not.worry." "Find a woman that fears God, and is attractive." I somehow believe the second clause is more important than the first clause because she had no qualm in shutting down the attraction (or lack thereof) of a girl that shared a picture with me.)

As I write this, I feel I should be more cautious for fear that my prospect husband might happen to drop that "prospect" prefix after reading this. But if he's a prospect, he'd probably understand. I hope.

______

A Lady - Amy Lowell

You are beautiful and faded
Like an old opera tune
Played upon a harpsichord;
Or like the sun-flooded silks
Of an eighteenth-century boudoir.
In your eyes smolder the fallen roses of outlived minutes,
And the perfume of your soul
Is vague and suffusing,
With the pungence of sealed spice jars.
Your half tones delight me,
And I grow mad with gazing
At your blent colors.

My vigor is a new-minted penny,
Which I cast at your feet.
Gather it up from the dust,
That its sparkle may amuse you.

somewhere i have never travelled,­gladly beyond - E. E. Cummings

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond

any experience­,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,­mysterious­ly)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifull­y ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending­;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:­whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understand­s
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Love Sonnet 11 - Pablo Neruda

Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia,
busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.

Estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada,
de tus manos color de furioso granero,
tengo hambre de la pálida piedra de tus uñas,
quiero comer tu piel como una intacta almendra.

Quiero comer el rayo quemado en tu hermosura,
la nariz soberana del arrogante rostro,
quiero comer la sombra fugaz de tus pestañas

y hambriento vengo y voy olfateando el crepúsculo
buscándote, buscando tu corazón caliente
como un puma en la soledad de Quitratúe.

----

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Daddy Needs: RAEN Kovac

I hate aviators. I can not emphasize that enough. The mass preference has really made it unattractive to me - everyone and their third world cousins wear it. (I do not have issues with third world cousins...)

For sunglasses, I prefer my lenses to be solid and not so translucent. I want to sleep and people to not notice (while I'm driving).

Needless to say, I finally found a pair I like while I was in San Francisco. The brand is RAEN and it felt heavy, which I like in my glasses. The weight makes it feel sturdy, which is important to me because I'm reckless with my sun/glasses. Despite taking me several years to find this, my mother came and commandeered it and gave it to my uncle.

In search of another one - i went browsing at all the new size/shapes/brands and all of them seemed either flimsy or too trendy. A smart thought came in my mind - check out the RAEN website. Luckily, they sell sunglasses on their site.

I saw this kovac in brindle tortoise and I knew it's mine. Also, the brand is really reasonable. The pair I'm looking at is only $85. I've looked at some around $300 mark and I do not see the value of the mark up... For these absurd over priced frames, unless Eames were reincarnated, designed the glasses with his bare hands, and the glasses were made out of molded plywood and plexiglass, it's doesn't make sense to me - they're factory produced...

Anyway, check out their site, it has my stamp of approval: raen

the hottest vietnam temperature felt in maywood, nj

Currently at my parent's place in Maywood, NJ and it feels like i'm in vietnam in the summer time during the worst heat streak in the history of earth.

My mother hates the cold and it's alarmingly evident.

Oh maybe I'll build my house in your cloud

"Flax seeds, well they tear me open
And supposedly you can crawl right through me
Taste these teeth please
And undress me from these sweaters better hurry
Cause I'm keeping upward bound now
Oh maybe I'll build my house in your cloud
Here I'm tumbling for you
Stumbling through the work that I have to do
Don't mean to harm you"

Someday I'll feel this and it'll be good. Listen to it: here. Song's called Plane and vocal by Jason Mraz.

Off to another adventure in NYC for work. I've decided to drive the two hours instead of bussing it. Figure 95 (highway) will be bare and It should be a rather quick trip, allowing me to listen to some of my recent favorite songs and think. Or "thunk" as I've overheard a lovely woman said the other day... I'm sure she meant well.

I wanted to write but as I write this, I'm finding words to be limited. The song encouraged me to note this instance. The next few days will be intense to say the least - lots of deliverables, adjustments, and acclimations.

Change - it's something I'm familiar with - perhaps too much. Not just change at work but with my life. I'd like to think there's some great response or resolve that's exerted when changes occur, but there's not, or at least I don't think my acclimation to be something that's glorified in essence. There are more to be said but I'm on a strict schedule to depart Philadelphia at 11.

Next time.

Beauty ZzzZ

For the past few days I've had trouble sleeping - more than normal. Three hours would be the average. My friend gave me a massage two days ago and said "those are some stress knots, boy!"

It made me think, "Wow, thank the baby Buddha I still look youthful because of the gallons of water consumption. Wait, should boy and stress knots appear together in same breath? What are stress knots?"

Ignorant to stress knots and massages, I asked how to get rid of them. "Massage or stretching" was the respond. Both do not appeal to me.

I hope eating a lot will get rid of them.

*Notice I was utterly dismissive of the first question.

**Good news, I slept seven hours last night. I just need to take a 12 hour nap and I'm caught up for the week.

Du Jour: Exchange

Terry Gross: So what are you cooking for christmas.

Guest (who is a guest): boiled beef.

Terry Gross: (3 seconds of silence) well thank you for joining us today.

How to Be a Better Human

Before you say or do something, think about it this way to yourself:

I'm a product of a bajillion years of evolution, is what I'm going to do and/or say next going to reflect that?

Pretty sure this will mitigate some awkward drunk texts.

Window into Henri

Guy: you going out tonight?
Me: no. too cheap for that.

Seriously, alcohol and door fees are mad expensive. I would like to embarrassingly allude to me being like Gaga regarding frugality no matter the income. She recently said in an interview that no matter her status, I summarize, it still pains her to write a check and that she had to be drunk to do her tax.

The embarrassing part is not knowing this tidbit, but because i'm too lazy to find and source accordingly.

Irony Fullfilled ...?

So I realized this blog had an erratic discontinuance and I humored it up to it being an intentional irony. What does Henri mean? It means for a site to head as "Henri Distills," I would think there should be a deluge of post, and an absence of posts would indicate a lack of thought. Ok, so maybe irony isn't the best word.

In short: I'm back. Be happy my one follower, myself.

Gianfranco Ferré Men Fall 2011

Purple is a recurring theme fall 2011. There were several pieces that seemed like it's been presented before under Ferre but there were some standout pieces. The blueish purple with the green lapel. It's a nice detail and the green doesn't seem too trendy.

Photo Cred: Style.com
See More: Gianfranco Ferré Men Fall 2011

Vivienne Westwood Fall Men 2011

I love the painted red. The clay color jackets complements the grayed blue so well. I also love the sundried feel of the jacket on the right and its accented buttons. The detail of the first look is amazing, such as the pastel green gloves and the pop of red from the tie. The shoulder stripes are sliming and the pattern is great. I also want to make my hair like that but it probably takes longer than my patience allows.

Photo Cred: Style.com
See More: Vivienne Westwood Fall Men 2011

Costume National Men Fall 2011

I didn't care for this collection. Perhaps it's more in the details, which is difficult to see over the computer screen and there were no details picture. Costume National always came off as a high end Zara to me, so I don't really understand it. It seems aligned with their previous collections so perhaps they have a strong following who will continue to return to their brand.

There were some pieces that I like. The blue hue on that jacket is nice, and the two sweaters' construct and how they fit on the models are great. As i'm updating my wardrobe to focus more on quality than quantity, it seems these pieces are something I wouldn't mind wearing over and over again and could be layered without seeming bulky.


Photo Cred: Style.com
See More: Costume National Men Fall 2011

Missoni Men Fall 2011

Season after season, I'm amazed at what Missoni is able to do with knitwear. The patterns are smartly attractive, though some pieces do come off as bulky. I'm sure as a luxury brand, it's light as feather but at first glance, I can't imagine myself being curious to approach.

The red linings are great though - this type of unexpected detailing gives a wardrobe character so these pieces are most indicative of the brand's stance for fall '11.

Photo Cred: Style.com
See More: Missoni Men Fall 2011

Burberry Prorsum Men Fall 2011

Christopher Baily has an amazing talent with colors and texture. Beyond his ability to create mouth-foaming jackets, he's very architecturally gifted. I love the bag and the wood closing, and the sweater between it's mix of fur and cabled knitted cashmere sleeves. The colors of the scarf and how it makes that whole wardrobe pop - amazing. The presentation was beautifully crafted in its light hue, which I could imagine stays true to an optimistic, rainy London. The show ended with the runway being rained on, which I took it as "can't rain on my parade" than "don't rain on my parade" as the models were covered in raincoats, over the pieces they wore previously.

Photo Cred: Style.com
See more: Burberry Prosum Men Fall 2011

Bottega Veneta Men Fall 2011

I love the purple hues. The sharpness of the right picture with its curved edges is great. The looseness of the clothes gave this collection a very soft appeal. Like most collection in Milan so far, a pop of color is a recurring theme.

Photo cred: gq.com
See more: Bottega Veneta Men Fall 2011

Narcissus and Goldmund, Hermann Hesse

"There were a number of confessionals in the church, but no priests. They had died, or they lay in the hospital, or they had fled for fear of contamination. The church was empty. Goldmund's steps echoed hollow under the stone vault. He knelt before an empty confessional, closed his eyes, and whispered into the grill: "Dear God, see what has become of me. I have returned from the world. I've become an evil, useless man. I have squandered my youth like a spendthrift and little remains. I have killed, I have stolen, I have whored, I have gone idle and have eaten the bread of others. Dear Lord, why did you create us thus, why do you lead us along such roads? Are we not your children? Did you son not die for us? Are there no saints and angels to guide us? Or are they all pretty, invented stories that we tell to children, at which priests themselves laugh? I have come to doubt you, Lord. You have ill-created the world; you are keeping it in bad order. I have seen houses and streets littered with corpses. I have seen the rich barricade themselves in their houses or flee, and the poor let their brothers lie unburied, each suspicious of the other. They slaughter the Jews like cattle; I have seen many innocent people suffer and die, and many a wicked man swim in prosperity. Have you completely forgotten and abandoned us; are you completely disgusted with your creation, do you want us all to perish?" - HH

My parents are religious, more so than your average church goers. My mother calls people she works with to spread the word of God and tries to recruit them to join her in Sunday services. Despite adversities, her moaning on entitlement as a wife, as a mother, and as an American, she somehow finds life through God as one better than without God.

This "passage" in Hesse Novel was relatable in that when all hope is gone, when the future seems bleak, and when the past is strongly avoided, I find my thoughts contemplating the idea of prayer, and sometimes I go through with it. As a reader, reading this passage, at first glance it would be curious for someone to go through so much but still spare time and effort to concisely attempt to give God one last try. Perhaps there's no such thing as the absence of hope or something or someone being "hopeless." It's human to hope, to want to be better. It's life, to find reason or to want to find reason to continue living.

"It is easy to overlook this thought that life just is. As humans we are inclined to feel that life must have a point. We have plans and aspirations and desires. We want to take constant advantage of all the intoxicating existence we've been endowed with. But what's life to a lichen? Yet its impulse to exist, to be, is every bit as strong as ours - arguably even stronger. If I were told that I had to spend decades being a furry growth on a rock in the woods, I believe I would lose the will to go on. Lichens don't. LIke virtually all living things, they will suffer any hardship, endure any insult, for a moment's additional existence. Life, in short, just wants to be. But -- and here's an interesting point -- for the most part it doesn't want to be much." -Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything

I want to be seen with a fresh pair of eyes. I miss God, I miss God. - Brooke Waggoner, "Fresh Pair of Eyes"