My goal for 2012 is all about getting out there, doing things I've always wanted to do, doing things that make me happy, and doing things to help others. We're off to a good start so far and helping others is next on the list.
I wanted to raise money for a cause and deliberated for a while on which one. There's the Aids Walk in May which is a pretty popular one and the Avon Walk for breast cancer in October which is equally famous. The men get Movember full of fun (and creepy) moustaches. So I decided to search around and choose one that was less well known--help the underdogs, you know.
So, I finally decided on The Unity Walk which helps raise money for Parkinson's disease research. The walk is held on April 28th this year and the fundraising has begun. I've known a few people affected by this disease and have read quite a bit about it, so it was a pretty easy decision to make having seen how it affects individuals and their families. As of right now, there is no cure for this disease which is a progressive disorder of the central nervous system and mainly affects movement (and yes, it is what Michael J. Fox has). There is medication that can treat it but we don't know what exactly causes it or how to get rid of it.
When I finally decided, I wanted to elicit some help and figured it would be a great project for our National Honors Society kids. I wasn't expecting much from them, maybe a bake sale or two. I mean, you can't really force people to care. But I was amazed by them after the first meeting. They were so excited to fundraise and kept coming up with ideas just short of selling each other (they actually DID want to auction each other off...true story). I left that meeting really excited that they were so excited and it lit a spark. We decided on having a concession stand for our musical performances this year and decided to make and sell our own custom made bracelets.
We're off to a good start so far. We've raised about $100 already with just the bracelets--and that's only by selling them to a small amount of people! I'm really excited to do this and attend the walk on April 28th. Our goal is to raise $500. I really hope we make it.
I invite anyone and everyone to join us. The more the merrier!
Visit us at the link below to join us or donate to our team...
http://unitywalk2012.kintera.org/teamrhs2012
or
http://unitywalk2012.kintera.org/natasha2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Technology Helps Us Hang Onto The Past
Oh technology, so convenient yet so dangerous. Technology has made it easier to hold onto the past. We save numbers in our phones, can find a person by a click of a Google search,and see what someone is up to through their Facebook page without them even knowing. Our greatest invention of the last decade has been the iPod...and iPad...and iPhone. A convenience not a necessity. What happened to the days of inventing such things as electricity, the telephone and the automobile, the space shuttle? These things made our lives easier but also were somewhat of a necessity and advanced us as a civilization. Yes, you CAN do without all these things but they make a lot of every day tasks easier. What does the iPod do? Other than provide you with music. We don't NEED these new things, we WANT these things.
Our society loves things that make life easier. And one thing these new technologies provide, is a way to hold on tight to the past--to keep it in our pockets at all times. Before, we used to have to memorize someones phone number. And then we would have to actually call them. And, if we didn't have something worthwhile to say, breathing into the receiver was probably not the best idea. If we wanted to find out about an ex, we would have to actually find and ask mutual friends. But now, our phones and facebook does all this for us.
We get to hold on to the past and keep things and people at our beck and call just in case we need them. Just like we don't have to settle because there's always something shiny and new around the corner, we also don't have to let go because we have extra external memory space to hold all our past remembrances.
I received a text this week from a number I didn't have saved in my phone. Just someone asking me how I was. I asked them who they were since the number wasn't saved. He said David. Now, I wracked my brain trying to figure out what David since I usually don't give out my number to random people without having their number as well. So I asked him how we know each other. He responded with "I don't know". Now, here's the problem: he found my number in his phone and decided to text me without knowing how he knows me with hopes that I would tell him. Mistake number 1. Mistake number 2 was telling me that he doesn't know. Because now, it's obvious that he has probably run out of vaginas and thought Natasha looked exotic in his phone and decided to give it a whirl. I was 99% sure I knew what David he was, but I wasn't going to give into his schemes. So I called him out on it and questioned why he thought it was a good idea to text some number in his phone when he didn't actually know how he knew that person. He answered with an embarrassed apology and that was that.
Now, I kind of felt bad. Because he wasn't a bad guy, he had just fallen victim to typical societal lack of thinking before acting. It wasn't his fault, we all do it. We all hang onto things we shouldn't or have things that are of no use to us. My number was of no use to him for a year. Why was it to be used now? Because of the convenience having it offers.
I have always said that when this planet does implode (and it will), our species is ill equipped to survive any sort of catastrophic disaster. Once electricity, phones, Internet, and microwaves cease to operate, we will be sitting around looking at each other and cursing that we cannot Google how to properly build a fire.
Until that day comes though, we will just have to do with the every day disasters of random texts, drunk dials to exes of 10 years past and having to rely on the Internet to tell us what and how to do things at all times.
Our society loves things that make life easier. And one thing these new technologies provide, is a way to hold on tight to the past--to keep it in our pockets at all times. Before, we used to have to memorize someones phone number. And then we would have to actually call them. And, if we didn't have something worthwhile to say, breathing into the receiver was probably not the best idea. If we wanted to find out about an ex, we would have to actually find and ask mutual friends. But now, our phones and facebook does all this for us.
We get to hold on to the past and keep things and people at our beck and call just in case we need them. Just like we don't have to settle because there's always something shiny and new around the corner, we also don't have to let go because we have extra external memory space to hold all our past remembrances.
I received a text this week from a number I didn't have saved in my phone. Just someone asking me how I was. I asked them who they were since the number wasn't saved. He said David. Now, I wracked my brain trying to figure out what David since I usually don't give out my number to random people without having their number as well. So I asked him how we know each other. He responded with "I don't know". Now, here's the problem: he found my number in his phone and decided to text me without knowing how he knows me with hopes that I would tell him. Mistake number 1. Mistake number 2 was telling me that he doesn't know. Because now, it's obvious that he has probably run out of vaginas and thought Natasha looked exotic in his phone and decided to give it a whirl. I was 99% sure I knew what David he was, but I wasn't going to give into his schemes. So I called him out on it and questioned why he thought it was a good idea to text some number in his phone when he didn't actually know how he knew that person. He answered with an embarrassed apology and that was that.
Now, I kind of felt bad. Because he wasn't a bad guy, he had just fallen victim to typical societal lack of thinking before acting. It wasn't his fault, we all do it. We all hang onto things we shouldn't or have things that are of no use to us. My number was of no use to him for a year. Why was it to be used now? Because of the convenience having it offers.
I have always said that when this planet does implode (and it will), our species is ill equipped to survive any sort of catastrophic disaster. Once electricity, phones, Internet, and microwaves cease to operate, we will be sitting around looking at each other and cursing that we cannot Google how to properly build a fire.
Until that day comes though, we will just have to do with the every day disasters of random texts, drunk dials to exes of 10 years past and having to rely on the Internet to tell us what and how to do things at all times.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
The New York City Elite...I am Not On The Guest List
A couple weeks ago Crazy and I went to dinner together. Fancy dinner. Restaurant week dinner. That's the only time we can afford those places--when there's a special.
I like going to see what all the fuss is about at these places and I usually try to pick the most expensive ones because you can't a beat $35 three-course meal...
So, I chose a fancy french restaurant in midtown. Jacket was required for men so you know they weren't playing around there. We get to the restaurant and I knew something was up the second my hand touched the doorknob. The dining room was bright and crowded and bustling. As we stood there trying to figure out who we were supposed to talk to about our reservation, there was this loud imaginary train break screeching that overtook the room as the music stopped and everyone turned around to look at the two vagabond who stood before them. We most definitely did not fit in at this place.
Aside from the fact that everyone was over the age of 35 and all the waiters were old french men, and there were no prices in the menu, it just felt so wrong. Now, I've been to fancy places before. I know how to put on my big girl dress and shoes and act like a lady. But this place was different. As we sat at our table I looked around and it hit me....this was old school New York. Old money people. It wasn't a trendy, dark, new fusion restaurant. It was a really expensive neighborhood establishment. These people looked like they've dined here since it opened! And they probably have. These are the people with money who have no problem forking over $60 for a meal three times a week. It's not a special occasion for them....it was just a Tuesday.
I realized while sitting there that we forget how many layers NYC has. Everything is so accessible to us all. Everyone rides the subway, everyone can walk into Tiffany's, everyone can get into the new hot club downtown. Everyone is important here because if you look the part and act the part, you can be the part (whether you have the funds to back that up or not). Everyone does there own thing in this city and there's always so much going on. But we forget that that elite group still exists. The group who has lived on this island for the last few decades and are true New Yorkers. The group that can afford to eat $60 meals several times a week, who have actual drivers, and do all their shopping at Bloomingdales. We forget that because we're so intermixed here--that lady could be sitting next to you on the 6 train! We don't have a "other side of town", there are no imaginary lines outlining the living space of the elite. We're all jumbled together.
Sitting in that restaurant was the first time I can remember that I felt out of place. I didn't belong there. It felt like a secret club that we stumbled upon where they all knew each other. And I realized that 1. we're all not as important as we think we are...there's always someone more important and 2. I could never be them. Not just because I don't have their money but because I don't want to have to carry on like that each day. Of course, I guess you get used to it but I like my H&M and I like the fact that sometimes I'm like, oh fuck I just paid my bills and I don't have any pocket money for the next two weeks. It feels real. The limits feel right. Because if we don't have limits, if there isn't a line somewhere, then we infinitely proceed and we eventually begin to only respond to "more". And sometimes the 'more' works out. Sometimes you never have to go down or back or think twice. You can just become super elite. But sometimes the 'more' gets less and your fancy carpet gets pulled from underneath you and you're left not knowing how the rest of the minions live and you can't relate and you eventually perish (I know, that's quite dark and foreboding...but it's worst case scenario so bear with me).
I don't want to live with infinite 'more'.....I just want to live.
I like going to see what all the fuss is about at these places and I usually try to pick the most expensive ones because you can't a beat $35 three-course meal...
So, I chose a fancy french restaurant in midtown. Jacket was required for men so you know they weren't playing around there. We get to the restaurant and I knew something was up the second my hand touched the doorknob. The dining room was bright and crowded and bustling. As we stood there trying to figure out who we were supposed to talk to about our reservation, there was this loud imaginary train break screeching that overtook the room as the music stopped and everyone turned around to look at the two vagabond who stood before them. We most definitely did not fit in at this place.
Aside from the fact that everyone was over the age of 35 and all the waiters were old french men, and there were no prices in the menu, it just felt so wrong. Now, I've been to fancy places before. I know how to put on my big girl dress and shoes and act like a lady. But this place was different. As we sat at our table I looked around and it hit me....this was old school New York. Old money people. It wasn't a trendy, dark, new fusion restaurant. It was a really expensive neighborhood establishment. These people looked like they've dined here since it opened! And they probably have. These are the people with money who have no problem forking over $60 for a meal three times a week. It's not a special occasion for them....it was just a Tuesday.
I realized while sitting there that we forget how many layers NYC has. Everything is so accessible to us all. Everyone rides the subway, everyone can walk into Tiffany's, everyone can get into the new hot club downtown. Everyone is important here because if you look the part and act the part, you can be the part (whether you have the funds to back that up or not). Everyone does there own thing in this city and there's always so much going on. But we forget that that elite group still exists. The group who has lived on this island for the last few decades and are true New Yorkers. The group that can afford to eat $60 meals several times a week, who have actual drivers, and do all their shopping at Bloomingdales. We forget that because we're so intermixed here--that lady could be sitting next to you on the 6 train! We don't have a "other side of town", there are no imaginary lines outlining the living space of the elite. We're all jumbled together.
Sitting in that restaurant was the first time I can remember that I felt out of place. I didn't belong there. It felt like a secret club that we stumbled upon where they all knew each other. And I realized that 1. we're all not as important as we think we are...there's always someone more important and 2. I could never be them. Not just because I don't have their money but because I don't want to have to carry on like that each day. Of course, I guess you get used to it but I like my H&M and I like the fact that sometimes I'm like, oh fuck I just paid my bills and I don't have any pocket money for the next two weeks. It feels real. The limits feel right. Because if we don't have limits, if there isn't a line somewhere, then we infinitely proceed and we eventually begin to only respond to "more". And sometimes the 'more' works out. Sometimes you never have to go down or back or think twice. You can just become super elite. But sometimes the 'more' gets less and your fancy carpet gets pulled from underneath you and you're left not knowing how the rest of the minions live and you can't relate and you eventually perish (I know, that's quite dark and foreboding...but it's worst case scenario so bear with me).
I don't want to live with infinite 'more'.....I just want to live.
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