tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23471838410372237392024-02-21T08:55:54.632-06:00Momentary Enjambments"Enjambment wakes the reader up and allows him to fall quickly to the next line." -Al RocheleauNatasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-66599575221657263002010-08-06T13:33:00.002-05:002010-08-07T18:26:44.141-05:00Unfinished BusinessThe last three weeks have been nothing but rain. Cold, wet, dark, unwelcoming. <div><br /></div><div>But today feels different. Hopefully different. I can see clearly around me. And like a hard slap in the face, the reason why has presented itself to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>All of this hurt, loss, the unsettling feeling of the unknown is fading into blackness. What once was stark white and staring me in the face now dissipates into the past.</div><div><br /></div><div>The decision I've made and this choice to move forward with it scares me, thrills me and intimidates me but these past three weeks have done nothing but knock me down and keep me there. Today I've woken to stand back up, because when the universe knocks you down you not only have to stand up, you have to hit the ground running.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't have made this decision without my family of course, who love and encourage the decision I've made despite my ambitious goals. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rith, my love, my equal, you are a great deal of the reason why. My next move is a little selfish and I'm beyond grateful to not only lean on you. I'm grateful that you carry me when I cannot walk on my own. These next years will be so exciting to share with you by my side.</div><div><br /></div><div>To my best friend, Griffin, know that you inspire me when you do nothing at all. You constantly remind me to reduce the debt in life, to reduce the excess and for that I thank you. Thank you for not only keeping it real, but thank you for reminding me that the beaten path isn't necessarily the right path for everyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>The wheels of change are in motion, once everything is complete and official I'll share with the rest of you what I plan to do next. To my readers in general, thank you for sharing all of this with me, I've got big surprises in store in the coming months, stay tuned. </div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-35210677249855451312010-07-22T15:30:00.003-05:002010-07-22T15:40:25.149-05:00Stay With ItI've practiced yoga with several different instructors in various studios and gyms and also at different levels of difficulty. One of my favorite things that these instructors had in common was said to the class when we were posed in the most uncomfortable of positions. "Stay with it, the pain won't last long." <div><br /></div><div>And of course, it wasn't really painful or else your body would tell you to release the position, but to hear that reminder in class kept me going, kept me folded, kept me twisted, kept me bent. I say that phrase to myself more often these days and outside of the yoga classes. </div><div><br /></div><div>A few weeks ago when my tires were stolen and I was laid off the very next day I couldn't help but feel utterly defeated. But I said to myself, both verbally and internally..."Stay with it Tash, it won't last long." </div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes we just need to remind ourselves that the pain simply means we're alive. Tires are replaceable and a job is just another opportunity. More importantly, our careers are not what makes us who we are, but rather its what we do. Stay with it. </div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-24219605589121347422010-07-15T19:59:00.003-05:002010-07-15T20:24:13.864-05:00Interpreter of MaladiesOn July 8th, at 7am I kissed my boyfriend goodbye as I walked out of our apartment to my car to get in my usual morning cardio at the gym. I got into my car, locked the doors and started the engine. I took the gear shift out of neutral and shifted to first after releasing the e-brake. I turned the wheel to drive off but my car was unmovable.<br /><br />Without knowing that both of my passenger tires were stolen, I repeated the same steps to no resolve. Finally, I got out of my car to walk around and inspect the problem. As I made my way to the passenger side, there lay my car, propped on two broken red bricks without rims, tires or lug nuts.<br /><br />Initially I felt confused, saddened and then angry. Really angry. I felt personally violated against. I felt targeted. My mind was overwhelmed with questions, "Who would do this?" and "Why me?" But these questions didn't help nor did they make me feel better.<br /><br />I ran back to my apartment and fell apart in Rith's arms. We called the police, filed a report, called my insurance as well as a tow truck. When all I wanted to do was crawl into a ball and cry there was no time for it. With $1800 worth of damages, I'm grateful that I was not in any danger. Sure, that certainly wasn't an expense I was planning for but at the end of the day I reminded myself that all material things can be replaced.<br /><br />The very next morning, because I had taken Thursday off to deal with my stolen tires, I went into work about two hours early. At almost noon that day, myself, my entire team and several others were laid off. I wish I could take back my tears in that conference room because it wasn't worth my tears. I just couldn't believe it, couldn't believe any of it. It suddenly felt that everything in my world was crashing down right on top of me. Everything that had felt safe and comfortable, everything I knew was no more. The blows weren't stopping and I couldn't help but take it personally.<br /><br />If everything happens for a reason, what was the reason for this? I don't know but I hope that the answer isn't far away. As for now, I'm taking some time off to focus on me. That may sound really selfish but after a weekend of some serious defeat, my mind, heart and body need a little TLC. I'm so grateful to have a supportive and loving boyfriend and family because without them I don't know how I'll get by.<br /><br />I will tell you one more thing, it's day 3 of being at home and I'm already going crazy. It's not relaxing nor is it any fun...must seriously re-focus my happy thoughts.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-77290032218586518542010-07-07T15:36:00.003-05:002010-07-07T15:49:15.285-05:00il dolce stil nuovoI read something really beautiful today. Currently I'm reading "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert and she talks about why she went to Rome to learn Italian. <span style="font-style: italic;">Il dolce stil nuovo </span>means "the sweet new style." I read it and instantly it brought a smile to my face. Change is what I take away from that phrase...the sweet new change.<br /><br />Though she was talking about the origin of the Italian language as we now know it, I feel it applies to anything you wish it to. At this very moment, though many things are the same, many little things around me and in my life are changing. I'm constantly in flux and certainly basking in<span style="font-style: italic;"> il dolce stil nuovo.</span><br /><br />Living with my boyfriend is so new. Everything about it is new. We do nearly everything together, we eat together, clean together, go to the gym together, sleep together and my favorite, we wake up together every single morning. I'm loving every minute of it, even when it's difficult and we argue about the little things; when he leaves one plate in our empty sink I can't help but love him all over again for all the great things he does. He does our laundry and folds it without hesitation. He picks up groceries I don't even ask for when we don't go together just because he knows I like it or crave it. He lifts weights with me three times a week even though I slow down his workout routine. And these are all silly things, but they're tiny details. There's so much more than I can't put in words. He's constantly putting me first and that means more to me than a man who leaves one dish in the sink.<br /><br />When I wake up in the morning and begin to open my eyes, I become fully conscious and feel his arms around me. Safety. Security.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">L'mor che move il sole e l'altre stelle... </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">The love that moves the sun and the other stars.<br />- Dante Aligheri<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">If you don't already, go and seek <span style="font-style: italic;">il dolce stil nuovo</span> though most times, it certainly seeks you. </span></span>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-48022401496214472202010-06-28T14:10:00.006-05:002010-06-28T14:26:04.191-05:00Baby Fever<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_r8iI-qHw95LfsClKwg5jA3FO7UH7tjCnI4ZSyrCl4ANI0veUC5Ott-nsvY1SoBqpYkJI9Xms6H0TZIGrdPnCtfcgH6stU1AN9XTL0E6tfWQBkiJXiDomNyz-mxcWfJy-Awxe2g-zJxY/s1600/001.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_r8iI-qHw95LfsClKwg5jA3FO7UH7tjCnI4ZSyrCl4ANI0veUC5Ott-nsvY1SoBqpYkJI9Xms6H0TZIGrdPnCtfcgH6stU1AN9XTL0E6tfWQBkiJXiDomNyz-mxcWfJy-Awxe2g-zJxY/s320/001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487905927642557410" border="0" /></a>You know when you're old? When your entire weekend is packed with baby play dates and baptisms.<br /><br />My nephew Darren James is so precious, when I don't see him during the weekdays I can't stop thinking about him. On weekends, my boyfriend and I make the trip up to Wauconda and spend the day with him yet somehow it's still not enough.<br /><br />It's so funny and interesting to learn that you can watch babies do just about anything and be just in awe.<br /><br />I could watch Darren sleep for hours and still not take my eyes off of him.<br /><br />With my other sister pregnant, baby fever is in the air. And though babies are a welcome miracle, I'm personally nowhere near ready to want or have one. <br /><br />It's a good thing we'll have two babies in the family this year...<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGE5ae3L3LRwGSGUn6Xck8xobQ5baHaNsE2ZVTTnz5OsYXSQA9fgW7tEHZWtUzpM_JL6rTOHPmu19ppyUlJr__M7mIllzxSKa17MmlDKTis2QZIUSMgIJq887BsliOhqHQmJYpOiXPLE/s1600/003.jpg"><br /></a>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-24788631597952523432010-06-25T14:44:00.003-05:002010-06-25T15:19:08.511-05:00Oral Fixation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxk8nI-rtJM0b6knz4reBUn8MuWAtn5c_A3TVEOWWxWx8mYNvC7xrXV0hfwSjc0IaTt9U20zNROsYwQITynB0A5qPm1DPd0Lr2wEW77YtOfOmYqOTATKEZPrf6pnLs2dzD6bSYgH4ku4/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxk8nI-rtJM0b6knz4reBUn8MuWAtn5c_A3TVEOWWxWx8mYNvC7xrXV0hfwSjc0IaTt9U20zNROsYwQITynB0A5qPm1DPd0Lr2wEW77YtOfOmYqOTATKEZPrf6pnLs2dzD6bSYgH4ku4/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486803436280014466" border="0" /></a>The many and albeit daily eating downfalls at the office include boxes of sugar coated donuts, homemade brownies, cupcakes, candy filled cabinets and don't forget fast food lunches -- all washed down with an endless coffee supply. No thanks!<br /><br />In the last 8 or so months I've put on some weight, when I tell people how much weight I've gained I find that the usual response is along the lines of, "I can't tell," or "that's not a bad at all."<br /><br />But it is bad, I'm 5 feet tall so every pound matters on a petite figure like mine. I'm not upset about the weight gain but I'm certainly doing something about it. Big changes have happened in my life since last fall when I was at my physical best: I moved out of my parent's home in the suburbs, I'm now working downtown and living with my boyfriend in the city.<br /><br />New home, new relationship, new job -- change can lead to a lot of things and in my case, weight gain. Suffice it to say, I've let myself go a little bit and have put on about 8 lbs, a little less than 1 lb for every month my boyfriend and I have been together. While it's certainly not an excuse to eat anything I want all the time, I accept the change and am now moving forward with becoming healthier. I've been at the gym almost every day this week to reinforce cardio and strength training as a routine.<br /><br />And because I sit at a desk for 8 hours on Monday through Friday, eating healthy is harder than one would think, or at least it was. Ever since we moved in together two weeks ago, we've been cooking dinner at home and also packing our own lunches. This is a much better alternative than running downstairs and hitting one of the many fast food chains in the Loop, it's cost effective too!<br /><br />Now I don't consider myself a "snacker," but there are times while I'm at work that I just need something, a piece of gum or mint...or whatever I can grab in our company's "candy cabinet."<br /><br />In an effort to appease said oral fixations, I've recently purchased a 150 count container of Yummy Earth's Organic Lollipops from Amazon. They're all natural lollipops (no artificial flavoring or dyes) and a serving size is about 3 pops for 70 calories. I've shared these with my team (and other teams) and everyone really loves them. They're also fairly sour and less sweet which is highly enjoyable. I've got them at my desk, readily available for when that craving kicks in...Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-36197451117962424352010-06-21T11:18:00.005-05:002010-06-24T09:55:36.575-05:00The Writing Won't Be On the WallIn light of some personal realizations I've made the choice to remove myself from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span> community. It's been a presence in my mind for quite some time now and after evaluating my life in terms of what I want, need and where I wish to be in the future, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Facebook</span> is not a part in any of those plans.<br /><br />So why does it sound like I'm talking about letting go of a relationship, it's a social networking site, not a person right? Reality check: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Facebook</span> was something I was a part of every single day. It was a part of my morning routine, as soon as I checked my emails upon waking up and again on my commute to the office. It was a part of my workday, I always kept an open screen to view updates. It was a part of any lunch or dinner plans in the form of pictures of my meal and checking in on Yelp.<br /><br />And last night, after an argument with my boyfriend, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Facebook</span> became a part of us, our fight and our relationship with just an insignificant moment of weakness on my part.<br /><br />No more. At first I thought I would slowly ween myself off of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Facebook</span>, maybe set a countdown of some sort to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">login</span> and/or update less. And then I realized this morning, I'm not addicted to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Facebook</span> -- there is no chemical substance I'm dependent on.<br /><br />I am a person; I am a living, breathing, loving, working, intelligent individual.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Facebook</span> is a web site whose online relationships proliferate because of only one reason: we choose to and willingly participate in these menial interactions.<br /><br />I participate in these menial interactions.<br /><br />You have to know where you are to know where you're going. So, where am I?<br /><br />I'm an aunt with a precious nephew I can't take my eyes off of. I'm in love and living with a man who changes my life for the better every single day. I'm friends with thoughtful individuals who inspire me constantly.<br /><br />And I couldn't possibly ask for anything more than that.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-2909488598442729932010-04-25T14:46:00.003-05:002010-04-25T15:18:01.560-05:00Just Like RaindropsIt's such an automatic thing to get into my car and drive to the gym for yoga. I decided today that instead of driving I'd walk the two miles to the gym. Granted, it wasn't the best weather to go walking, but it felt surprisingly amazing to walk in the rain.<br /><br />When I left my condo in the West Loop, the sky was an ominous gray and a faint drizzle kissed my face. About 10 minutes into my walk bound for my gym at Union Station, the rain began to fall in heavier, colder drops. I had no umbrella, no raincoat or hood, I had just my yoga mat strapped to my back, a bottle of water in my hand and my music. I have to say that walking in a rainstorm is one of my favorite things and it's so frustrating to realize how far removed I am from simple things like walking.<br /><br />As a society we're so far removed from nearly everything; we drive when we can walk, we text when we could see each other, we believe in fad diets instead of routine exercise and healthier eating, and lastly, we use credit instead of cash. Needless to say we are a society dependent on instant gratifcation. When did this happen to us or rather, when did we create it for ourselves? Since when was it okay to rely on what is convenient and quicker as opposed to what's overall better for all of us?<br /><br />Sure, we have schedules and commitments but who is to say that we can't wake up a little earlier in the morning to walk instead of rely on public transportation? Why do we spend hundreds of dollars on Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig and NutriSystem? Because everyone tells us it's okay.<br /><br />You'll be hard pressed to find people who go back to the source, who manage to make life what they want doing what they wish without the influence of others. I'm not crazy and by all means I am not saying everyone who takes the bus is lazy, but I'm slowly starting to realize that every decision we make is truly ours. If we don't take advantage of it, everyone else will.<br /><br />Having said that, I'm going to start walking from my condo to my downtown office which, according to google is 3 miles one way. Not only does it start my day with great cardio and fresh air, but it saves me money every time I don't take the bus. Why am I doing it? Because I can and because I want to. Yes, I have to sacrifice waking up a little earlier and maybe coming to work sweaty but that's my choice.<br /><br />Walking in the rain today was so liberating, people looked at me like I was crazy and I laughed inside. All around me others were ducking under awnings waiting out the rain and there I was, yoga mat in tow, walking in the downpour. Fittingly enough, Basement Jaxx's "Raindrops" played on my iPhone as I walked and it was the most serene 4 minutes of my day -- not including yoga of course.<br /><br />Walking allowed me to connect with me, to listen to my own thoughts and be with myself in these moments. When you drive you have to be aware of everything, what gear am I in, is that lady going to cross, is this parking? Ridiculous. More and more I'm wondering why I even bought my car, granted I was in the suburbs and well, needed it. But living in the city with everything within walking distance what the hell am I doing with a sizeable car payment and insurance? Hopefully I'll figure it out soon, I'll think about it on my walk to work this week and keep you guys posted.<br /><br />Seriously though, get out a little. You'll be surprised at what even a 30 minute walk outdoors will do for you.<br /><br />PS Is anyone in the market for a manual 2007 Scion tC?Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-86205497482945615262010-04-22T09:47:00.003-05:002010-04-22T10:11:53.506-05:00Dear GrampsApril 22nd is here again and I wish I could say it's getting easier. I mean, in the general scope of things I'm okay really but ever since you passed a part of me left with you. In reflecting on how to add and remove people from my life, in losing you I've learned that sometimes the leaving can't be helped.<br /><br />You should know that everyone is happy, healthy and our family is growing.<br /><br />You should also know that I'm so in love Gramps, I wish you could meet him. Lolo Boy thinks he looks just like you back in the day. The way he takes care of me reminds me of how you cared for Grandma. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve him.<br /><br />When we cleaned up the house a few weekends ago mom came across boxes upon boxes of my toys and onesies that you'd saved. I'm not sure why you saved it but I suppose you didn't need a reason, you were always like a father to me. Seeing my baby clothes carefully folded and packed ever so delicately meant a lot to me. Those are pieces of me that I can give to my kids, pieces that are so much more than pictures in an album. Thank you for saving them.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-34199923865899968732010-04-20T15:35:00.002-05:002010-04-20T16:07:28.078-05:00The Wonder YearsThis past weekend my boyfriend and I were out to dinner with my sister and her husband. I'm not sure how the conversation turned to this topic, but my sister and I suddenly found ourselves talking about our childhood and how during boring summer breaks, we used to hold mock-beauty pageants with one another, actually we did mock-everything at this age -- school, news segments, etc.<br /><br />This conversation then lead to the discussion of how I didn't meet my siblings until I was 7. True story.<br /><br />It's one of those things where you think everyone who really knows you already knows this, but somewhere in between the whirlwind of the last 6 months, I'd omitted this tidbit from my boyfriend, unintentionally of course.<br /><br />So, I know it's kind of weird and most certainly not the norm, but not meeting my siblings until that age is probably one my most favorite facts about myself. Needless to say, I was a nightmare. I didn't share because I grew up thinking I was an only child and I was quite spoiled. When three young siblings enter your life thus changing the balance (or imbalance, rather) that I once knew, I changed and I couldn't help it.<br /><br />As an adult with full control of my balance, it's interesting to see how the addition of new people in your life can change you for the better. Additionally, it works just the same way when you remove people from it. In the mathematics breakdown that is your social and personal life, when will we ever produce the ideal remainder?Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-21476301483837033862010-03-23T23:45:00.004-05:002010-03-24T00:27:54.598-05:00Can I substitute Yelp for friends?True story: I was on the phone with my boyfriend tonight having our usual run-down of our days discussion and jokingly, I posed the question in this entry's subject line.<br /><br />Once I said it out loud I knew that I half-meant it, then wondered what it'd be like to slowly replace my friends with restaurant and business reviews. No, I'm not serious. Okay, crazy - yes and perhaps fed up and obviously this is not a likely or desired solution or scenario, but hey...Yelp won't ever let me down.<br /><br />Yelp won't disappoint me, hurt my feelings, judge me, blow me off or change into a whole 'nother website before my eyes. Stupid comparison.<br /><br />Okay back to the real matter at hand. I'm not going to lie, I've been a little distant with some people - not to avoid them per se, but I guess just to gather my thoughts and re-evaluate these friendships in the long run.<br /><br />What is it with some people? Everyday I'm more and more aware that I'm constantly annoyed with a pretty decent amount of people in my life. Is it my fault for keeping them around or am I at fault for not saying anything to begin with? I bite my tongue because I feel like some of my issues with them are petty and I'm positive they'll overreact and be too defensive to understand my point of view, so my qualms feel even more unwarranted than ever. Unfortunately, the maturity gap between them and myself is ever-growing. And this is no one's fault by any means, but it is a fact of life.<br /><br />Change is good, I wholly embrace it. But when change happens to the people closest to you, you can't help but want to ignore it. Or rationalize that it's just a phase. And then question the hell out of it. In watching them change before you, does this then, in turn, change you (for the worse)? Or are you the one with the problem, are you the static character in a novel of a dozen dynamic characters?<br /><br />At the end of the day my issues with said annoying friend(s) comes down to either 1 of 2 (or both) things, and it's not a shocker though as both points bring out the worst in everyone:<br />1) materialism<br />2) popularity contests<br /><br />I'm 24. I'm at the point where I just want to scream, "Shut up, no one cares!" at the top of my lungs. No, I don't want to hear about your non-problem problems and/or Facebook dilemmas. I don't want to hear why you're forced to do A because you never deemed B, C, D or E an option. No one is controlling you, there are no strings, no marionettes on a stage, don't act like you need to blame every other person in the world for your mistakes and shortcomings.<br /><br />So again, I ask, can I substitute <a href="http://natashagregorio.yelp.com/">Yelp</a> for friends?Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-43291586434066766212010-03-09T15:14:00.004-06:002010-03-09T15:40:12.351-06:00That's Not My NameIt was around midnight on Saturday or Sunday morning rather and in a relaxed yet slightly intoxicated stupor, I made my way out of the Violet Hour with my sister, her husband and my boyfriend. Upon walking out and dodging the throng of people waiting to get in I hear inquisitive whispers that include my name and then finally...."Tasha?!"<br /><br />I ignore it at first, as I usually like to dodge people I know. Plus, if you have to be whispering about me before calling my name out in public why would I bother saying hello? By this point, my name was called about 3 or 4 times, louder and louder and so I stop and turn around to confront the bumbling idiot calling my name. I saw some familiar faces from high school. Can't a girl get a break on her birthday?<br /><br />I hate running into people from high school and I'll openly admit it. I have the most awkward conversations and interactions with them. So what, we went to school together for some odd years, we really don't have to talk now.<br /><br />I'm not putting anyone down by any means, I'm really good friends with a lot of peers from my high school, we talk, exchange hello's via Facebook and so forth, I respect a great deal of them but these are also certain people I've continuously maintained friendships with.<br /><br />Here's what's really annoying about that night. When I stopped and faced them after calling my name out a multitude of times, they stared blankly at me. Maybe you should consider being prepared with a response, or follow up, perhaps "Hey, how are you?" But no, nothing. They started at me and I stared at them. I walked away of course, are you kidding me? What was the point in all of it, to announce to the public that you knew someone?<br /><br />I keep my life and the people in it very separate from almost all of the people in my past. Now of course, there are a handful of great friendships I took along with me but for the most part I've found out that time and time again a good amount of these people don't change. It feels wrong to group them per se, but high school is so far away, I can barely remember it. I just feel so awkward when I do run into them because we run out of things to say after the "What'd you do after graduation?" conversation.<br /><br />If you're going to call my name out five damn times in public say something after you've got my attention. Actually, don't waste your breath because 9 times out of 10 I'll walk on pretending I don't hear you.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-75208099392356859182010-02-22T21:26:00.003-06:002010-02-22T21:39:21.613-06:00Journal 3831 UpdateShame on me, I'm a bad writer for not having updated my blog since January. I've tried about 5 times literally, I've written opening paragraphs....whole blog posts even, only to just delete them. I guess it's just been one of those feelings where nothing was really worth publishing on here in the first place, which yes I know is silly because something, anything would be better than not posting.<br /><br />Well, I have some exciting news. I just got my journal back from my lovely cousin and her kids in California. Before this, a close friend of mine took it with him to Brazil and I had to send it out pretty much the next morning so I didn't have a lot of time to have it to myself. Anyhow, I was flipping through it tonight after haphazardly tearing through the package and I could not help but smile like a fool.<br /><br />In this book of blank pages are spotted, imprinted pages of love. It's all over, from the front to the back...romantic love, family love, sexual love, patriotic love, lost love, etc. I never imagined this would be a love themed journal by any means but it's just interesting to see, no to feel what loved ones and close friends express in words and pictures. I feel like a voyeur, like I shouldn't read it but it's mine, it's a strange feeling.<br /><br />This journal project is truly enriching my life, one day at a time even when it's not in my possession. All I can hope for is that it's done the same for every single person who's touched it. I'll have it for the remainder of the week and it will be sent off again this weekend, though this time it is local, whew.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-55757065908676097212010-01-04T18:50:00.002-06:002010-01-04T18:57:09.019-06:00A Holy Discontent"The term <span style="font-weight: bold;">ideal</span>, herein is not used in the sense of an abstract, unattainable perfection; but rather it means a worthy goal that has promise of attainment through appropriate efforts. The gap between where you are and where you desire to be creates a mental and emotional conflict, "a holy discontent" - often called stress in today's world. Normally the first response to stress is to mentally and emotionally run over the outward indications of the conflict - anger, fear, disappointment, resentment, embarrassment, or other such negative feelings. In doing this one's mind is trying to fill the gap between his expectation of what he desires and what actually exists."<br /><br />-Loyd J. Ericson, <i>The Sower and the Divine Pattern of Progress<br /></i><br /><div id="TixyyLink" style="border: medium none ; overflow: hidden; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><br /></div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-21782666805894217032009-12-01T16:24:00.010-06:002009-12-18T17:28:34.562-06:00I know if we say loveI know /<br />if we say love /<br />we speak of many things<br /><br />That line is taken from Sandra Cisneros' volume of poetry, My Wicked Wicked Ways from a piece entitled "I Understand it as a Kiss." The volume has been at my desk since my first day of work at my new job--at the beginning of October. From time to time I pick it up and thumb through it - when I need inspiration, when I need love, warmth, comfort or to just feel full - of all of these things or quite possibly something more.<br /><br />I keep it at my desk at work as a reminder, no as a declaration - of who I am and what I do. It's very easy to fall into habits that aren't natural to you, it's easy to forget that these things, these daily minutiae aren't permanent nor are they definitive of who you are.<br /><br />Truth be told I haven't written a single thing since my return from New York at the end of September. And though I feel guilty every waking moment for it, I've come to the realization that my life has not only turned upside down and inside out in the last three months, but it's been cut into a million pieces and placed back in a whole new order.<br /><br />I'm in love. And like Sandra, I speak of many things.<br /><br />My life as I knew it has changed, nothing remains the same though everything is seemingly just as it should be. I started my new job downtown in October, moved to Bucktown in November and here I am at the end of another year. In reflecting, I can't help but feel sad for what is gone, for what isn't mine and for what I'll no longer have. But in this sadness is love and my future and it's here and you better believe it's not going to wait for me to be ready.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-14827667958976655552009-10-22T21:11:00.003-05:002009-10-22T21:32:17.823-05:00Remember This<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUEx9aBHmg_fWKr1u3GhPtWv5CdLdD-0zvolIFOr9DJjgL1sbFSvxakffTZPVQ3IMa1CSn1J_Ymu4HxphbgWRk7LAtskj_4zgfGN_YQA2C60S7yMU8DgEddgClWTv_X8OelvPFZhewso/s1600-h/rithandtash.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUEx9aBHmg_fWKr1u3GhPtWv5CdLdD-0zvolIFOr9DJjgL1sbFSvxakffTZPVQ3IMa1CSn1J_Ymu4HxphbgWRk7LAtskj_4zgfGN_YQA2C60S7yMU8DgEddgClWTv_X8OelvPFZhewso/s320/rithandtash.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395612765981789826" border="0" /></a>Life gets busy, we got caught up in the craziness, swirled right into the eye of the storm. I keep having to remind myself to stop and smile, to appreciate my life and the wonderful people in it.<br /><br />It's silly to say since my boyfriend and I are fairly young, but when I'm with him I feel so young at heart, so carefree and reckless. It's with him that I can unload my stresses while also holding both him and my stuffed Cookie Monster from NYC in my arms. Every day I don't think it can get better and it does.<br /><br />Yesterday, a mutual friend of ours, a wonderful person and talented writer (Hi, Monica!) reminded me to keep on writing. She told me to document these moments, this early stage, this unrelenting happiness--because even if it doesn't last, falling in love is still and always will be the best feeling in the world.<br /><br />My family and close friends know I'm not an affectionate person, it's just always been hard for me to show love and to also feel it. There are a lot of reasons why I struggled with this but he makes all of my worries simply irrelevant. We can't walk anywhere without holding hands and you know what, <span style="font-style: italic;">I can't stop kissing him</span>.<br /><br />The picture above was taken after a water fight we had spontaneously in the bathroom. I think it encompasses who are together, it makes me smile like a fool every time I see it. It's also my wallpaper on my phone and his contact photo so I see it when he calls. Whenever I get an incoming text I see it light up in the background and end up swooning all over again.<br /><br />So this blog is for you Monica, I promise to remember these moments -- like that moment in the bathroom after our water fight, I promise to live in the now.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-4057353163527524902009-10-21T15:30:00.003-05:002009-10-21T15:56:03.587-05:00One QuestionSo many changes have come my way in the last three weeks, new job, new relationship, apartment hunting, oh my!<br /><br />Happy is a term that doesn't quite encapsulate what I feel with all of these changes coming into play but I truly feel like many pieces are coming together. Every day I'm realizing just how blessed I am.<br /><br />Not having been in a relationship in years it's exciting to learn more and more about one another together. I'm slowly adjusting to taking him into account in my own choices, understanding that what I do now affects him and vice versa. It's a wonderful feeling to be able to let another person into your life, to carefully begin to depend on them and have them to fall back on.<br /><br />My boyfriend and I, having mutual friends before we started dating have received a ridiculous amount of personal messages from our friends and friends of friends who are more than thrilled that we're in a relationship. And it's such a mind boggling concept to me, when I still get them I don't know how to respond except with a polite "thank you." But then I realized, in our circle of friends and family - when two people come together the bond between the rest of us only gets stronger.<br /><br />I'm not crazy or living with my head in the clouds - I'm very aware that this honeymoon phase doesn't last forever, but in the meantime we're going to soak it up. It's a weird feeling being in a relationship again, especially with someone (as my family jokes) "on the inside."<br /><br />Everyday we're together I ask him one question, and it's a silly question but I feel that it's important. It's a question that doesn't necessarily need to be asked of your significant other but it's also a question that should never be assumed.<br /><br />On Monday night, after eating dinner and after Gossip Girl finished, while Monday Night Football played before us, I turned to him and asked this one question: "Are you happy?"<br /><br />Without hesitating and without giving me his standard variation of "Yes," or "So happy," he turned to me and said that he was the happiest he's ever been. Sometimes, a girl just needs to hear it even though she already knows the answer.<br /><br />I am utterly and irrevocably delirious with happy.<br />It consumes me.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-91292186120988729472009-09-17T13:35:00.003-05:002009-09-17T13:43:54.336-05:00The Happy ListAs unpleasant as August was for me, September sure is making one hell of a turn-around...I can barely remember what maladies befell me last month! I've been so busy with work and life I haven't blogged in so long! Needless to say, things have been wonderful and I've been feeling amazing every single day I wake up. And thus, I present you...the happy list, yet again.<br /><br /><ul><li>This weather. I absolutely love Fall, its brisk, refreshing winds, the cold mornings and warm days, followed again by chilly nights, perfect for cuddling.</li></ul><ul><li>Running in this weather is prime for me, I love it!</li></ul><ul><li>Stockings! I'm not sure if everyone loves stockings like I do, but I love having an array of colors ready for the season, Fall is the best season to accessorize!</li></ul><ul><li>Journal 3831 looks freaking amazing, honestly, I cried a little at its contributions last week.</li></ul><ul><li>First kisses are always great. That should have been first on my list. <span style="font-weight: bold;">First kisses</span>.</li></ul><ul><li>NYC next weekend, I have a feeling it'll change my life.<br /></li></ul><ul><li>Sandra Cisneros' <span style="font-style: italic;">My Wicked, Wicked Ways</span><br /></li></ul>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-47097462196074737462009-08-27T14:09:00.003-05:002009-08-27T15:04:22.496-05:00Journal 3831Over the weekend I watched the film <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.1000journalsfilm.com/">1000 Journals</a>,</span> by Andrea Kreuzhage. About 15 minutes into the film I found myself somewhat restored from what one could describe as a beyond hellish week. Literally, it may have been about 15 minutes in that I was overcome with inspiration, passion and drive that I decided on starting a traveling journal of my own.<br /><br />The idea of <a href="http://1000journals.com/">1000 Journals</a> is pure genius, I cannot even describe the roller-coaster of emotions that I felt while watching the film based on the project of the same name.<br /><br />Being the true Facebooker that I am, I extended the project to my own friends, real people who have personally touched my life.<br /><br />I feel that this journal, my journal, journal #3831 will change people's lives. Though that's certainly not my goal by any means, I just want to offer my friends an opportunity to step outside of their safety zones. I want to them to explore their creative sides, to find the beauty in simplicity, to create and recreate, and to simply just do. Doing something, anything...is better than a blank white page. It's progress, a statement, a defiant middle finger to stasis and routine. I want them to leave their mark, on the page and in the world. More often than not we as individuals stay silent, avoid change and glide along with our mundane lives because we're too lazy or unmotivated to create change.<br /><br />Journal #3831 will be my awakening, as an individual and as a writer. I too, have needed something to turn my world inside out and this project has come along for a reason, this reason. I hope it will help my friends and their friends (and quite possibly some strangers) to understand and appreciate the concept that any contribution is meaningful. A collaborative effort is needed in order for this to really get anywhere and I'm so flattered by all of the feedback, emails, comments and messages I've received for this 3831 project.<br /><br />With my sincerest apologies, I have to admit that I've been a little under the weather and so this journal has not yet been started. I do plan on stopping in my nearest Blick Studio to pick up a journal and promise that by Monday, August 31st, the first recipient will be notified that 3831 is en route.<br /><br />I've also just decided on what my contribution will be to 3831 and can't think of a more perfect time and place to share it. I'm beyond excited, really.<br /><br />My biggest fear, my only fear, is that 3831 will be lost, stolen or forgotten about. Although I control the mailing list and ultimately its location, I cannot always track it. Participants have one week to keep it to themselves and in this week they can share it with a loved one, a friend, a coworker, whomever - it's all a part of the spirit of the 1000 journals project so who am I to argue? As much as it scares me, it's how it has to happen, and it's time I learn to have a little faith.Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-34032371619025167142009-08-19T19:58:00.003-05:002009-08-19T20:22:38.199-05:00Bulletproof<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">If I could share with you just how crappy this week is going by way of an immature and silly photo response, it'd be this (below), classy, I know. </span><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><div><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gYBaGGAR_b807q1doHR0ZPgP2BtsyygLxlV54NHsmQsckJ9JOlXrUUshGY-ZSoJe423TD70O3pNziXpRtlr-xZ6NwmzGp_jBgAmh8IYYH1Tt1iHofQKUCnf3tOjR9A1yv08fIjWqY8s/s320/IMG_1622.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371844540276073202" /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">On the upside, I've been having a beyond-fantastic music week. There's a song that's been on repeat literally all day today and the more and more I listen to the words, the more I'm convinced it was written specifically for me. It's been a really long time since I've really connected with a song, its lyrics, its beats, its essence in total. But I'll stop talking about it and let you listen, enjoy.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZmcS7FO0Guw&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZmcS7FO0Guw&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Anyhow, I much prefer the Nacey remix of it as opposed to the original version, there's something hauntingly beautiful about it and all it makes me want to do is write, which I've promised myself I'd make time for tonight. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">And lastly, the lyrics alone both disturb me yet make me feel like I'm right at home. It's certainly not complex and thoughtfully written, but rather it's simple and to the goddamn point. Because sometimes, you just need to cut out the bullshit. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">"Bulletproof" by La Roux</span></span></span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />Been there, done that, messed around<br />I'm having fun don't put me down,<br />I'll never let you sweep me off my feet,<br />I won't let you in again, the messages I've tried to send,<br />my informations' just not going in,<br />burnin' bridges shore to shore, I'll break away from something more,<br />I'm not to not to love until it's cheap,<br />been there, done that, messed around,<br />I'm having fun don't put me down,<br />I'll never let you sweep me off my feet,<br /><br />Chorus:<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br /><br />I won't let you turn around,<br />and tell me now I'm much too proud,<br />to walk away from something when it's dead,<br />do do do your dirty words come out to play when you are heard?,<br />there's certain things that should be left unsaid,<br />tick tick tick on the watch and life's too short for me to stop,<br />Oh baby, your time is running out,<br />I won't let you turn around,<br />and tell me now I'm much too proud,<br />All you do is fill me up with doubt,<br /><br />Chorus:<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br /><br />Bridge<br /><br />Chorus:<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br />This time baby I'll be bulletproof<br />This time baby, this time baby<br />This time baby, this time<br />This time baby, this time baby<br />This time baby, this time.<br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-56320050607979208632009-08-13T12:11:00.002-05:002009-08-13T12:45:01.622-05:00The Happy List<ul><li>I switch purses rather frequently, maybe 3 times a week and all three times this week I found random stashes of cash in all of my clutches.<br /></li></ul><ul><li>"When you move out, you're going to need practically everything." My friend told me this recently, she moved out months ago was preparing me for when I move out. Slowly but surely I've been furnishing my non-existent apartment, it might even be a smart idea to get storage space so I don't have to clutter all my finds at home. There are two important pieces I'm going to be very careful selecting, my bookshelf and my desk. Both of these items are more important than a bed and must thoughtfully be chosen. My book collection is probably my most prized possession, it grows every week and holds significant memories and sentiments. My writing desk will be in my bedroom since I've decided that I don't want to have a tv in there. Plus there are so many things I need for my desk, but don't even get me started. All I really need are my books. And hello major tangent! It's wonderful to discover your taste and style through furnishing your own place. Surprisingly enough, I've picked up a lot of African and Mexican pieces and cannot wait to see what it will look like once I'm finished. The goal is to apartment shop in November with my eager and willing sisters accompanying me and sign a lease by December. I can't wait!</li></ul><ul><li>I bought a ticket to NYC for next month. I'm tired of saying I want to do all these things and watch as time passes me by. I'm young and healthy, there's no time like now and I refuse to keep making excuses for myself. Albeit bad timing what with having to save for an apartment and all, I figured this would be my second to last big expense. Yes, I rationalize with myself.</li></ul><ul><li>The last big ticket item on the list before I go hardcore frugal is....my MacBook Pro which I'm buying next month too. I was torn forever between an iMac and the MacBook but ultimately decided right now I am needing portability. I still do plan on also getting an iMac eventually, maybe in the distant future.</li></ul><ul><li>My UIC student ID doesn't expire until December 2010, I don't know how that happened but I'm totally going to holler at that student discount @ the Apple store. If that doesn't work, I can use a "teacher discount" for working at a performing arts academy, so no complaints here.<br /></li></ul><ul><li>Shu Uemura eyelash curlers.</li></ul><ul><li>OPI's Fall 2009 Espana collection, of which I have already picked up 2 bottles. (Give Me Moor! and Manicurist of Seville). </li></ul><ul><li>Training began this morning, I don't really need to train for the Hot Chocolate Run in November, I'm just trying to incorporate more cardio into my daily routine. It feels good to be running outside again. </li></ul><ul><li>Aloha Eats is a wonderful restaurant that surprisingly, was more down to earth than I imagined. Highly, highly recommend the Spam Musubi.</li></ul><ul><li>My next tattoo I think might be my favorite, it's two lines of poetry for which I've already selected the script for. It's my second to last ink and I'm not sure if I'm more nervous or excited about getting this one. It's by far the biggest tattoo I'll have done but again, I'm deciding on how big the font should be, I keep going back and forth with it.<br /></li></ul>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-5255175161270593952009-07-28T21:17:00.003-05:002009-07-29T14:17:20.048-05:00ChaosIt's interesting to notice just how quickly order and disorder trade places in my life. These past few days have been a blur and I seem to be waking up unprepared for the next morning that follows. <div><br /></div><div>My bedroom is especially a mess of clothes, shoes and books. With my long-awaited vacation to Mexico quickly approaching, the packing process has been on hold. Instead, the more pressing concern I have now is figuring out what books to bring with me on the plane. <div><br /></div><div>In other news, I've been editing my brother's artist biography for his website but struggle to really get anywhere. Needing to walk away from the task at hand to gather my thoughts, I picked up my copy of <i>The City Visible </i>to reread my old notes. My book's folded corners and lightly tattered cover surprisingly still bring me joy and the smell of it alone (weird I know) calms me. It's a musk of mostly rainwater (I accidentally left one of my windows open with this book on the sill during a storm) and my perfume (which sprayed onto it multiple times while in my purse).<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Clearly, my mind's a mess as well, but sometimes not everything should be in its proper place. </div><div>Maybe I'll start packing tomorrow. </div></div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-27711926305171740132009-07-09T21:37:00.005-05:002009-07-09T21:51:55.653-05:00This Poem WaitsI spent a great portion of my evening lost. Lost in the restored, original copy of Sylvia Plath's posthumous collection of poems, <u>Ariel.</u> I cannot even register any other emotion at the moment except for the emptiness I feel. I am emotionally drained, tapped dry of any useful feeling or thought. I've forgotten how much of yourself you have to give in order to allow Plath in. Although I'm exhausted from almost reading the entire collection in one sitting, I cannot complain. Ironically, at the same time a sheath of fulfillment creeps within me. I just need to process the experience, let it register and reflect perhaps in the morning.<div><br /></div><div>I picked up another (hopefully) great read today, <u>Word of Mouth </u>: Poems Featured on NPR's <i>All Things Considered</i>. I haven't gotten around to really reading it, still kind of reeling from Plath. (I'm not really interested in compilations of poems by different poets, when I do read these anthologies I read them out of order, I'm neurotic, I know). I did open the first page and was overcome with the urgent need to share this with you. It's a dedication (or at least I took it as such) to introduce the book, Quincy Troupe so beautifully and transitionally writes: </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;">this poem waits for you to cross over<br />to cross over love, this poem waits for you<br />to cross over, to cross over love<br />this poem waits for you to crossover<br />too crossover, too, love</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><div>If this is the beginning, I look forward to losing myself in it as well. </div><div><br /></div></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-87901243674658621152009-06-26T20:27:00.003-05:002009-06-26T20:45:04.432-05:00For BrandonI suppose it's natural for me to think of you now that I'm so happy. Of course, you also made me happy, you gave me a lot of things, but after I ended it, my life fell apart. I don't think anyone really understood what it was we had, our families, our friends, much less you and I. <div><br /><div>Driving through Inverness today I remembered you, the way we planned the rest of our lives together on hot summer afternoons like today. I saw a couple who looked like us drive past me and wondered if he insisted on her holding her hand in the car the entire trip. I wondered if he kissed her at red lights, so distracted by passion that he didn't realize the light had turned green. </div><div><br /></div><div>The messes we've made afterwards will never happen again and to be quite honest, I hope to never see you again. Please understand that I don't say that with hate or regret, I say it with solace and fulfillment. </div><div><br /></div><div>You were ready to give me the rest of your life and I could barely give you the next week. Every now and then I'd imagine what my life would be like with you, how different it would be, how different I would be...but all along I knew I needed more, not necessarily from you but just for me. I gave you everything I had then, it wasn't enough for you but you kept on choosing me, loving me. To this day, I'll never understand why, nor do I want to know. </div><div><br /></div></div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2347183841037223739.post-90982741688938408942009-06-13T21:53:00.010-05:002009-06-13T22:55:08.114-05:00I knew I Couldn't Be Anything To You But An Aspiring LoverBeatriz, a good friend of mine, also an accomplished writer and current graduate student pursuing her Master's, and well, my own personal hero, recommended new poetry to me earlier this week. Surely I'd heard of Sandra Cisneros and all the hype of <i>The House on Mango Street</i>, but haven't yet had the opportunity to read any of her work. The very next day, right after leaving work, I picked up a copy of <i>Loose Woman,</i> a collection of poems by Cisneros. Let me just mention that I have very little to no self control when buying poetry, I tend to buy several books at a time because well, let's just call the bookstore my candy store. I could actually lose myself in a bookstore for hours, I try to hit Myopic in Wicker Park at least once a week, but it's always so crowded with tourists when I go. This week I was forced to go my local B & N, not quite the same experience but they had what I needed. I was definitely tempted to buy almost 8 books but narrowed it down to only three, in addition to Cisneros' <i>Loose Woman</i>, I picked up Jack Kerouac's <i>Scattered Poems</i> and Kenneth Koch's <i>New Addresses</i>. And I have to say, it's been a wonderfully fulfilling week for me.<div><br /></div><div>To begin with, nothing could have prepared me for Cisneros and <i>Loose Woman</i>. People tell me my poetry is sexually driven and raw (which I don't believe in the first place) but after having read Cisneros my hold over my own sexuality in conjunction with my writing is not even comparable--I feel like I'm incapable of harboring my sex, my memories and myself. I'm certainly not discouraged by any means, but wholly inspired and in search of something I'm not sure yet what. All I can say is that I don't know quite what it is about Cisneros' writing but as Beatriz put it, "That is the one book that I feel I could eat three times a day and feel full and sustained."</div><div><br /></div><div>I briefly thumbed through Kerouac, I personally don't enjoy him as much but bought the book as gift to my brother who really does like him. There are collaborations with Ginsberg and other New York School poets, but again I didn't really keep that one for myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>In my very first writing workshop class, our lecturer had us read Kenneth Koch's "Making Your Own Days." This is the one book I cannot find anywhere, I actually try not to think about it too much because it makes me really sad. The book can be purchased sure, but it was through that literature, through that class and in the notes I took so adamantly in the book that I fell in love with poetry. And I fell hard, it was only several months after that realization that I also grew to despise it. My affair with poetry is a tumultuous one, with anything I feel passionately about, there has to be flaws. I think it's because it sobers me to the knowledge that I can't take it for granted because if it always came easily to me, where is the challenge? Where is the moment of relief and gratification in completing a work? I guess it's all subjective though since I learned early on that a poem is never ever complete, that it is in fact always going through drafts. I admire that poetry changes with the writer, the moment the words tumble onto paper we're naked and unarmed, telling you all exactly what we feel and how we feel it. </div><div><br /></div><div>But shockingly and again I digress, back to Koch. I bought <i>New Addresses</i>, and cannot stress enough how full I feel--my senses are sated, overwhelmed at times but in the best ways. There are two poems that I cannot stop reading, two poems that I read again and again from the moment I wake in the morning and again right before I fall asleep. Let me first explain that an address poem is exactly what it sounds like, the writer chooses objects, memories, anything really to speak to simply as if they were a person listening--they are directly addressed to in the poem itself. I first heard "To Orgasm" (one of my all-time favorite poems hands down) as an undergrad and new that Koch was a genius. I complain all the time about being happy and unable to write and Koch was the only poet who I knew actually negated that stereotype. I'll share with you an excerpt of "To Orgasm:" </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Someone was there, later, to join me and you</div><div style="text-align: center;">In our festivity, a woman named N. </div><div style="text-align: center;">She said oh we shouldn't do</div><div style="text-align: center;">This I replied oh we should</div><div style="text-align: center;">We did and had you</div><div style="text-align: center;">After you I possess this loveable</div><div style="text-align: center;">Person and she possesses me</div><div style="text-align: center;">There is no more we can do</div><div style="text-align: center;">Until the phone rings</div><div style="text-align: center;">And then we start to plan for you again</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">(Lines 11 - 20)</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">However, as much as I enjoy that poem, I've fallen hopelessly enamored with another one of his address poems, "To The French Language." It's a poem I read nearly 5-10 times a day, either in succession or spaced out throughout the day. I love the way it sounds when I read it to myself aloud, I've even locked myself in my bathroom with it, and sit perched atop my sink and listen to the words clearly echo around me. I'm a woman obsessed, no joke. I think it's also because I love the way French sounds even sans poetry interspersed with it. It's just beautiful, it makes me feel beautiful; it's a poem I imagine reading to a lover, while we're in bed, dressed only in wrinkled sheets. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Overall, it's been a fantastic week of poetry and life, love and writing. But then again, poetry is life, love and writing, is it not? </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Natasha Angela Gregoriohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11730404810834020542noreply@blogger.com0