tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59582366698330128682024-03-08T14:43:48.724-08:00Above Average MediocrityYelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-74938979993808366092017-03-15T12:10:00.001-07:002017-03-15T12:10:16.617-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So someone suggested to me I should start posting my creative works here. Maybe get a following. Maybe force myself to stay on some sort of schedule. In either case I hope you will find some purpose in these works. It was my MIL who once said if you're going to write, make sure you have something to say.<br />
<br />
So without further ado, here's what I got to say:<br />
<br />
<i>When Wars End</i><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is always war; somewhere. Some are just lucky enough not to
live there at the time. To the city dwellers still snoozing their alarm clocks,
it didn’t feel like a country at war. The sky was still dark, peppered with the
few stars that filtered through the city lights. Store shutters jerked open,
creaking as though awakened from a restless sleep. Eventually the sun made its
welcome appearance among the yawning celestial objects- ready to retire from a
night’s shift. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">None thought this war would take long, if they thought of it at
all. One side had morality to their advantage. The other, had morality and
numbers. But after 10 years and no side more the winner, both countries began
to feel the strain of limited resources. <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">In the past, a great power would sweep over a decrepit empire until it
too became decrepit and was conquered. Today wars were fought between
superpowers in their prime, at least the wars worth reporting. But the
essentials of war were unchanged.</span> Today’s countries at war were both
used to gluttonous and pampered lifestyles. Clothes were made in ever bigger
sizes to accommodate, while soldiers (out of sight, out of mind) ran low in
supplies. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">That was when LongLast saw an opportunity for wealth and made its
valiant effort to help redistribute resources from gorging mouths in safety to
troops under constant threat. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Look great and
eat as much as you want.”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“New
non-biodegradable solution for when you’re craving more after meals.”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Unlike most diet fads, this one worked, and importantly didn’t
require anyone to move a muscle, unless it was in their jaw.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Longlast made huge profit margins, in the meantime. It became a
house staple. Doctors hailed it as the wonder food to feed the nation. “A cure
to obesity!”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Longlast expanded their market worldwide and even found a demand
in the nation warring against their homeland. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">After such an ongoing successful business, Mr. Long and Mr. Last
joined in conference to discuss expansion plans. “Our goal was to help our
troops, how are we doing that if we give the same product to the enemy, so they
divert more for their military force?”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Brother,” Long pulled Last in close and walked him to the
floor-to-ceiling windows. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You remember when we were younger? That little town we grew up
in? The 1st time I flew in a plane was when I realized that at 30,000 feet I
couldn’t tell the difference between that hopeless little place and the big
cities. <b> </b>You’re thinking too small. We’re all one, in the end,
aren’t we? There is no enemy really.” Long chuckled and gave Last a wink,
“After all, it would only be fair for your name to come 1st in the brand this
time, eh?” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mr. Last stared out the window at the empire they had built. <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">It was only a number of years ago he spied
out a different window- smaller without a view- wondering if he’d ever find a
job that wasn’t at the rundown supermarket. The rundown supermarket, where the
only thing super about it was it still stayed in business where nearly all
other ventures collapsed.<b> </b></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’ll chew on it” said Mr. Last at last. Money had no
allegiances and under the new name (because politics and marketing) LastLong
expanded to enemy territory. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">When LastLong came to the market, the leaders couldn’t be happier.
They read all the health reports about LongLast (LL) but couldn’t get access to
the patent documents. Now they too could depend on more supplies going for
their war effort. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Unexpectedly there was another benefit to the product found
worldwide: population control, especially of the lower classes who were loyal
LL shoppers-- mostly <b>because of</b> cost, longevity, ease of transport and
lack of other products sold in their areas. Scientists noted the rise in the
upper and middle class, decline of the lower class and touted LL with even more
rigor for closing the gap between the rich and poor. <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Due to its sweet taste it was also highly addictive. Then again sugar,
alcohol, and cigarettes always shared a separate fate compared to <i>those</i>
other ill-fitted drugs. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Unbeknownst to the makers and suppliers, LL began to
cross-contaminate other food chains. It was only when the elite were diagnosed
with malnutrition that the cries of protesters, who had long been outspoken
regarding their decimating populations among the lower classes, was taken up by
lobbyists in suits. Papers were scrutinized and found to have conflicts of
interest (though these were always reported but not found to affect the
research). Independent research was conducted, retracting much of the
interpretations found in earlier statements. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mr. Long and Mr. Last could not much reflect on this state of
affairs as they too were being treated for malnutrition.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">“We couldn’t know” they thought as their bellies ached and they
slacked in their bed exhausted-- even after a full night’s rest. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">The world was dying from malnutrition and starvation but everyone
ate at least 3 meals a day. In fact, more bellies were filled than before LL.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">With leaders hooked to IVs reports and updates were slow in
coming. Still there was dusk and there was dawn, despite the problems of
humanity. Soldiers received little news from their loved ones, if they were
still alive to send news. After many months of silence from their governments,
the two leading generals met with booming voices and laughter. Soldiers became
hopeful about peaceful resolutions. Some <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">looked</span> over enemy lines to find an image not unlike their own <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">gazing</span> back. Had the generals not been
in uniform, passersby would not have been able to tell one from the other. But
in the end talk was moot, both pointed to the last papers they had been sent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">“We have our orders,” they buzzed and the stampede of bullets
resumed. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">When next it rose, the sun laughed over the steel empire shining
beneath. And somewhere in the middle of nowhere, a lone supermarket closed its
doors. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Copyright YZ </span></div>
</div>
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Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-14951085923631920472017-03-15T12:09:00.000-07:002017-03-15T12:09:05.204-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'll be the first to admit this blog can get melodramatic.<br />
<br />
There, now you're (or am I still the only one who reads this?) forewarned.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-30378651216682046402016-02-07T21:41:00.001-08:002016-02-14T14:31:59.222-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What has become of this blog? Different seasons, different climates. How much we/I owe to steady changes!<br />
I think I know what I want from it now. I want it to be a place I can vent my frustrations regarding the troubles I see with the world. The grand scheme. Scheme is certainly the proper word for it; life and events unraveling or raveling as some masters behind the scenes sneakily pull at the strings.<br />
<br />
I want this to be a place we talk about politics, corruption, slavery, innocence, guilt, but also occasionally laughter and flatulence. There has to be room for the silly, we/I have to make room for it. Otherwise it's too dark, foreboding, and false.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
Here is a poem in honor of my little one:<br />
<br />
<i>Wean Me Gently</i><br />
<br />
Tonight, this final embrace of our bodies<br />
<br />
let your last suckle be long,<br />
<br />
For those sleepless nights cradling<br />
<br />
your head and hands on my alien bosom.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow when your small frame wakes<br />
<br />
it will be less little and less mine<br />
<br />
and it will be for the better;<br />
<br />
but for now there is this sound of peace and love--<br />
<br />
my heartbeat against your gulps of mother's milk.<br />
<br />
copyright Y.Z.<br />
<br />
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Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-12222861177108612282014-03-13T00:46:00.000-07:002016-02-07T21:51:16.105-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A poem for the reader's I don't have:<br />
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Remember</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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My baby teeth would recall<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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Smiles from daydreams ago</div>
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But they’ve left me</div>
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these old pearls in their place.</div>
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My feet would recall </div>
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twirling to folk music, in haste;</div>
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spilling from grandpa’s accordion,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
to the life I thought would befall.</div>
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But I’ve left them, absentees,</div>
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this me in my place.</div>
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The disappointment, though</div>
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all my old parts would have never expected.</div>
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Or those smiles from daydreams ago. </div>
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Copyright Y.Z.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-38491253425111355122013-03-10T03:01:00.001-07:002013-03-10T03:01:28.515-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wish we could run away from life and into each other. No work. No school. Just you and me and our love. Nothing to keep us apart or distracted. All the time in the world is not enough to spend with you and now the time I have must be diluted by responsibilities.<br />
<br />
You are my one joy. Where ever I may run, it is always to be closer to you.</div>
Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-21409737662822680292012-07-24T11:45:00.001-07:002012-07-24T11:45:00.960-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
All these doubts and inconsistencies I've noticed in the Talmud is not all for naught. The explanation "we just don't understand G-d's way" is no longer sufficient.<br />
<br />
Luckily, Judaism has not always been this warped. This unreachable. Real Judaism does allow for dialogue, discussion, and evolution. I do not mean back in the 2nd century. I mean now. Today.<br />
<br />
Karaite Jews. The more I learn, the more I want to know.<br />
Here's a quick excerpt:<br />
"Karaites place no value in the interpretations of the majority or the customs of the forefathers. On the contrary, Scripture teaches us: "Do not go after the majority to do evil" (Exodus 23:2). The prophets also warn us against following in the errant footsteps of the ancestors, as it is written: "be not like your fathers. who acted treacherously against יְהוָה" <br />(2 Chronicles [Bet Divrei HaYamim] 30:7), and again: "they shall not be as their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious generation" (Psalms 78:8). The same warning applies to the laws invented out of men's hearts, which the prophets call the "commandment of men learned by rote" (Isaiah 29:13)."<br />
<br />
How wonderful a concept-- that we must be following the words of G-d not some outdated traditions made by Rabbis way back when.<br />
<br />
That it is up to each and everyone of us to truly study and interpret the Tanakh.<br />
<br />Perhaps the real oral torah delivered from Sinai was this: to always use scripture for interpretation. Just that and then Rabbanites used their interpretations and made them law. How sad. I would love for a public debate between Rabbanites and Karaites. Dialogue needs to be resurrected between these 2 groups. One is wholly astray and should at the least, be made aware. </div>Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-59856629309574792792012-04-05T09:12:00.005-07:002012-04-05T09:22:30.090-07:00<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/n8ukBgJX2tw" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" width="420"></iframe><br /><br />Life is grand and wondrous. Full of opportunity. Full of glitz, glam and fortune. For some.<br />For others it is dull, grey, and vacuous. It is horrid that we live in a world carrying the burden of unjust deaths and murders.<br />But this post is to thank this world. Thank you for my wonderful fiance, who makes everyday a dream. Thank you for my acceptance into Columbia grad school for genetics. I may not have done what I set out to do with this blog but somehow adventure and love found me either way. I've been able to settle the confusions of my past and maintain the lifestyle so vital to me now. Since my last post I've been to Argentina, which I didn't like and Costa Rica, which I did. We all toot our horns to different tunes but if you listen closely, you'll see it doesn't matter unless you let it.Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-28849019217128825462010-12-23T22:20:00.000-08:002016-02-07T21:58:08.112-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
While this blog was initially made to discuss the songs I've been living it has often led me to think of those songs I am not living, of those I cannot live. I've been having many doubts lately. Doubts about religion. If its truly as beautiful as I want to believe then why must I interpret it in my favor? Why is pursuit of intelligence and creativity shunted? I am not a penguin, can't be one. <br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Religion is like smoking cigarettes. Smokers know it gives them cancer but they've put so much of themselves into the tobacco they need something back, even if it's a metastasizing tumor. <br />
<br />
Romance with Torah:<br />
<br />
Waited but not long enough<br />
To slough the scent<br />
Of a supplement so rough.<br />
Like a cigar to a vent<br />
A bent inhalation-<br />
One ration in and then sent<br />
Out for preparation.<br />
Cannot swirl you in deeper<br />
With a reaper to gather<br />
And lather for keeper<br />
For a tongue to slather.<br />
You’re like a cigarette<br />
A threat to inhale just one time<br />
So climb into depth<br />
Can’t withhold the grime.<br />
So coughing and choking<br />
A stroking for measure<br />
This pleasure of smoking<br />
Is the package’s treasure.<br />
Though you’re not fire<br />
To admire your heat<br />
Is for too sweet a liar<br />
And here’s just a cheat.<br />
Burned going down<br />
And around till back up<br />
To sup worth from a clown<br />
Whose runneth over the cup.<br />
When you leave, the taste<br />
Of haste on the tongue stays<br />
With strays of tar waste<br />
Thick there for days.<br />
You’re a habit I’m used to<br />
Not new to using<br />
Though bruising is true<br />
For those musing<br />
But the smell on the clothes<br />
It goes to the heart,<br />
to chart how it grows<br />
as it breathes every part.<br />
Expensive to buy<br />
But to deny you is worse<br />
So the purse will reply<br />
paid in full by reverse.<br />
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copyright Y.Z.</div>
Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-21405890988999853972010-07-14T21:55:00.000-07:002016-02-07T21:58:47.873-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The idea of missing a place, a time, or a moment is foreign to none. We share these confused emotions across the game board that determine our land boundaries. Yet the emotions are met with showers of disdain. While we may change as individuals the influences in our surroundings do not change in our absence. Therein lies the confusion, since the feeling of loss is both for the changes acquired and the habits forsaken. Often we forget what we miss, as different moments coalesce. The hard truth about missing someone/thing is because the emotion that underlies all the nostalgia and confusion is fear. Fear for the stagnant that our lives once yearned to engulf themselves in. <br />
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The song for today was 'Starlight' by Muse:<br />
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Our journeys, emotions, and memories all bring us back to a place of struggle; be it against our physical or psychological mortality. I have so much to miss.</div>
Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-90584064890446302472010-06-30T08:19:00.001-07:002016-02-07T22:00:33.570-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know I haven't posted all the music I have been living and the excuse is... I have been to busy living the songs.<br />
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I just returned from India yesterday. The songs I have heard, sang, thought, and lived were so flavored with adrak and achar my mouth still burns and waters after it. Although this blog has taken a different form all together because of my negligence I have never faltered from the mission I set out with it. Unfortunately I cannot begin again where I left off, somehow in life this track is always doomed for failure. As such I cannot merely make a bulk post of all the songs I have lived (it has been far more than 100 and far different from the list I had originally compiled). Plans are to be broken, however. <br />
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Life shouldn't go only according to plan. That is cheating yourself.</div>
Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-49694889176237305002010-01-01T08:46:00.001-08:002010-01-03T01:15:04.337-08:00So I spent the past week looking for some songs to live. I need to make this somewhat organized. After all, some days I'll be too busy to live a song and I'll have to just live (nothing wrong with that). So below are some songs I've picked out so far. Any suggestions (try to keep them a tad realistic) are appreciated. Happy New Year everyone. <br /><br />With the new year comes the first song to be lived:<br />It's Just Another New Year's Eve -Barry Manilow<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3wSP59NjoIY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3wSP59NjoIY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />My New Years Eve was exactly this, distant and nostalgic. Movies always make it seem as though New Years is a magical time but the truth is it's just another New Years eve. As a kid New Years Eve meant so much more to me, or maybe that is the selective memory talking. It's 2010 and a year from now it will be 2011 and a year from then it will be 2012, etc. etc. etc. (Who knows after 2012, though eh?) The media makes it seem as though that one minute makes the greatest difference but for me nothing has changed. I'm still Yelena and you're you. New years is just that, a new year... nothing else and there is nothing wrong with that. For some reason I'm so inclined to think there's a problem that my life is not following the road of some New Years movie but that's really the best part. I don't need midnight on Dec 31st to mark a change, any midnight, any minute, will do. Let me tell you a secret about New Years, (something all those movies and songs don't want to tell you) it is special for mainly one reason: it's another excuse to party. <br /><br /><br /><br />The Judds- Grandpa (Tell Me ‘Bout the Good Old Days”)<br />(Sittin on) the Dock of the Bay, Otis Redding<br />Frank Sinatra - New York<br />Bon Jovi - Livin' On A Prayer<br />Lean On Me, Bill Withers<br />Do You Believe in Magic, The Lovin' Spoonful<br />Heart of Glass, Blondie<br />With a Little Help From My Friends, The Beatles<br />Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This), Eurythmics<br />Sweet Home Alabama, Lynyrd Skynyrd<br />Like a Rolling Stone, Bob Dylan<br />What's Going On, Marvin Gaye<br />Respect, Aretha Franklin<br />A Change Is Gonna Come, Sam Cooke<br />Yesterday, The Beatles<br />Ramble On, Led Zeppelin<br />Purple Haze, Jimi Hendrix<br />Let It Be, The Beatles<br />Living for the City, Stevie Wonder<br />Folsom Prison Blues, Johnny Cash<br />Smoke on the Water, Deep Purple<br />Judy Garland - "Over the Rainbow"<br />Don't stop believin- journey<br />John Lennon - Imagine<br />Johnny Nash- I can see clearly now<br />Men at Work- Down under<br />Doors- People are strange<br />Frank Zappa- Dog breath<br />America Horse with no name<br />Petula Clark- Downtown<br />Cindy Lauper- Girls just wanna have fun<br />Bruce Springsteen- Dancing in the dark<br />Jethro Tull- Aqualung<br />Tom Petty - Free Fallin<br />Bruce Springsteen - Atlantic CityYelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-52129707662076223562009-12-22T12:12:00.000-08:002010-01-01T10:00:27.172-08:00Today started off without alarm-- literally. My phone malfunctioned, deleted all my media files and did not ring at 8am. Somehow I managed to get up and going at 2pm.<br /><br />Later today at the gym I witnessed a blatant disregard for unspoken gym rules for the first time. If there is ever a line for machinery or in this case, the sit up station, always look at the order of people who went before you and then make a place for yourself in the line. Well today I witnessed someone who either didn't know about this or didn't care. I stepped off to let the 2nd person (whose turn it was) go, he finished, the 1st guy came back, then it was my turn again but the 2nd person went and skipped me. Etiquette please!<br /><br />Either way that was no different than any other day. The real change is I have 364 days to live the lyrics of a 100 songs. Today is day 2 of my 365 day goal of changing my life around in the midst of obtaining both my degrees, work, volunteering, and maintaining a fitness regiment. I'm not going to give any of that up, you shouldn't have to in order to get some adventure in life. Adventure is not about waiting for some major change in your life that will redefine every moment, it's not about sacrifice of reality. Adventure is an experience and that I (as do we all) have plenty of.Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958236669833012868.post-90619810674338368652009-12-22T01:07:00.000-08:002016-02-16T14:45:36.137-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Not everyone is born with special gifts. Heck, some who are don't even know or worse fail regardless. I'll make it brief, this blog is about us, the forgettables. We have no superhuman strength, dexterity, or intelligence; and no refined taste in art, music, or cuisine. I'm just like you and I'm sick of it too. I want a special gift and if I couldn't be born with one, I'll darn well make sure to die with one.<br />
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This is the inception of my special gift. No worries, I like to share.<br />
I won't discuss the disappointments of college and stress over the future in a bitter economy. That was another blog I wrote once many years ago. I was probably 15 then and an avid listener of Nirvana.<br />
I won't discuss my efforts to find the one man in the world untarnished by mass media that has me feeling more lonely.<br />
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This will not be about perfections or imperfections. It will be about doing something we can all do. I don't live in a movie and most of you don't either. We can't all just up and go on a jungle excursion.<br />
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So to the apathetic, sympathetic, and pathetic stay in your couch and read on. This is an adventure that fits your schedule.</div>
Yelena Perlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04371344461812500783noreply@blogger.com0