Relaxation Tip #32: Aromatherapy Shower

We are generally used to the concept of a candlelit bath suffuse with many intoxicating aromas, but not so many have ever tried a candlelit shower. This, however, is my favourite way to relax and definitely a plus for those who don't relish the idea of stewing in their own juices for an hour. What's more, a steamy shower with both the light and the fan off also acts as a sauna, and if you have a massaging shower head you can actually relieve a neck cramp rather than getting one.

Of course this is a tactic which only works in an apartment where burning candles is allowed, and is thus not appropriate for everyone. What's more, it works best in a very small bathroom, especially one where there is some sort of table (the top of a toilet works wonders) beside the shower on which to set your candle(s).

Though some people cannot handle heavy scents, aromatherapy can do wonders and so I like to choose scented candles: chamomile, lavender, and green tea are my favourite scents. The soothing fragrances, combined with the warm, sauna-like experience of the shower and the gentle glow of the candle all work together to create a beautiful and calm atmosphere. Moreover, the sound of the shower water can be very soothing and can act as a sound barrier which, for those living in noisy areas, is a real relief sometimes. A bath is certainly quiet, but doesn't filter out the outside world.

Summer in the City

I'm working at the Columbia Visitor's Center right now, which is at times frustrating but often rather rewarding, especially when I get the starry eyed little young'uns who, though my encouragement, decide that they would like to go to Columbia. I love that. Some of them are little jerks, of course, and I have concluded that I hate eighth graders. They like to ask questions like "Yo, why are the bill-dangs durrty?" and "Yo, who dat guy who gave all that money to the school?"

But of course when they get excited about college, and about sports and learning and reading and all sorts of things they're completely worth it. What's more, all is forgiven when they laugh at my jokes. Really, it's mostly about laughing at the jokes. That's the real way to earn your tour guide's love.

I've recently signed on to be a writer for C-Spot, which is the naughty magazine on campus. The issue will be out at the end of the month and I'm quite excited. I will certainly update you when that happens, and I might even tell you my secret pen name.

I've also been heading out on the town recently with my dear friends who are all writers for Inside New York, which means that I get to check out some awesome venues at discount prices. Restauranteurs are so eager to show us a good time that they will not only comp both food and drink at times but also treat us with the utmost respect, a luxury not often granted to people my age. The other night we went to Nectar Wine Bar which advertizes itself as "the best thing to come out of Harlem's gentrification." Whether or not you agree with the idea of gentrification, this was certainly a great venue which offers three dollar wine samplers which are by no means scanty and give the patron the opportunity to sample several delicious wines. We were fortunate enough to taste a Prinz Von Hessen 2005 Reisling which was absolutely fantastic, among others, like a Trevor Jones Grenache from 2006 which was just lovely. They also served us their fabulous sangria, on special, which tasted like a little bit of heaven. They also featured some lovely meats and cheeses and for dessert some Jaques Torres chocolate which was absolutely to die for.

In my time off from Hamlet, which I am stage managing, I've also recently visited Galapagos in Brooklyn, which was lovely, and 675 in Chelsea Market which was one of the first venues I've visited to feature board and party games in cosy little rooms as well as a large, traditional bar-type setting, making it a great atmosphere for both large groups of friends and action-seeking singles alike.

Summer in the city is shaping up quite nicely.

Facebook: Too Awkward for Words

Every so often I run across someone airing some very dirty laundry on Facebook. As a writer, I feel that it's my duty to observe and report, though at times like this it seems rather villainous. I sometimes wonder if I'll get in trouble for reposting this, but I feel as if you're already writing to an audience of over seven hundred people, you probably won't mind a few more, especially given that this is indeed a rarely viewed blog.

I'm not sure when we became the generation that privacy forgot. I remember the days when it was indecent to drag this sort of thing out into the light, but here it is for everyone to see.

God have mercy on our souls.

A.T: I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, cause the next time that he cheats, you know it won't be on me.

30 minutes ago · Comment · Like

A.J. at 6:04pm April 19 via Facebook Mobile

A. im so fucking stupid im sorry:(

A.T. at 6:09pm April 19

hahah you make me laugh.

N.L. at 6:12pm April 19

are you alright, a.? :(

A.J. at 6:13pm April 19 via Facebook Mobile

I understand i just want u to know that i really like u im not fucking around but i no obviously ur not gonna take me back i just wanted to tell u:(

A.T. at 6:16pm April 19

your fucking rite i'm not.. go ahead and fuck her again if you really liked me you wouldn't of fucked her

A.J at 6:19pm April 19 via Facebook Mobile

Im so sorry april:( i dont fucking want her fuck april i only ever want u i was drunk.. But the only thing i can say is im soorry i fucked up bad and i feel like shit i fucked up the best thing going in my life right now

A.T. at 6:23pm April 19

clearly you did want her and again i coudl fucking care less if you were drunk or not you still knew what you were doing. i don't care what you have to say you are a fucking asshole and yea you did fuck it up there nothing you can say to me i don't want anything to do with you what so ever.

B.M. at 6:23pm April 19

ya i agree with you a. i don't even know you and you hurt my friend pretty bad. you should feel like shit and you should be sayin sorry but you should also know she is worth alot more then what you did to her. remember that for next time.

A.J. at 6:29pm April 19 via Facebook Mobile

I agree im stupid i dont deserve a. at all shes such an amazing and wonderful girl and i fucked it up.. April i understand that u never wanna c me again i just wanna say im sorry and im a stupid fuckin asshole and i deserve nothing less from u i hope u end up with a guy that will treat u the way u should be treatd cuz i just want u to be happy

February

A new blog post?

Well, of course.

Why not? No reason.

Why? Mostly because I have a ten page story due tomorrow and I've three pages of it.

There's nothing to put you in the mood to write for fun like writing for a purpose. Oh, how divinely artistic am I feeling right now. What, you don't believe me?

Of course you don't, wily reader, of course not.

I've been having incredibly trippy dreams lately. The other night in my sleep I wrote an existential manifesto with the Feditor. I then apologized to him for having been so rotten lately, though I'm not quite sure what I've done. The next night I was seduced by the devil, who was, for some strange reason, a Ken doll and married already to Barbie, who was already there.

There's a scarf outside my window blowing in the wind, and the first time I saw it I thought it was a dying pidgeon.

I have to figure out whether it's appropriate to write short stories that have philosophical content, or whether that's just wanking. I have a feeling that it may indeed be cliché poseur french girl wanking. Oh, look at me! I'm bloody Sartre. Oh, wait. I'm not. Why? Because I'm doomed to be bloody Simone de Beauvoir.

When in the history of the world has a woman ever been on top without having been "a remarkable lady writer," or a "lovely female author?"

Is it too much to ask just to be a writer?

And the Train Was Delayed

Because who doesn't love more ramblings at four in the morning on a train bound for, apparently, nowhere?

I apologize for not getting this out sooner as I have approximately two friends who actually read this blog and they're starting to get a little antsy.

I recently traveled by train from Montreal to Moncton, a trip that took approximately four hours longer than it should have, and this was the result.

It’s morning now, and I’ve just had another sleepless night of travel. I thought it would be easier on a train, but I still faced six hours of desperately changing positions before I found one that didn’t hurt my back. As you can probably guess, my Nyquil was nowhere to be found, most likely spirited away by my mother who, on reading this, will call me to tell me how she threw it out because I shouldn’t be taking it anyway. I paid good money for that acetaminophen/antihistamine blend, Mother, and would have appreciated it last night.

No matter. I can’t be upset. While I haven’t slept, the sun is shining and we’re whipping past snow covered trees which is so pleasantly literary that one can’t bear to be upset. Duke was a good choice for the morning’s music.

When I say whipping past, I of course mean slowly crawling past. Via decided to stop the train several times last night, and now because of the weather we’re inching our way through the snowy hills. I keep seeing Dutch flags everywhere. How I hate the Dutch. They do make good chocolate, though.

If you’re ever slowly winding your way through snowy terrain, I highly recommend the song Caravan. Nothing says travel like a lot of clip clopping and pounding drums.

Something I’ve learned about New Brunswick so far this morning: It’s very boring. Not a very interesting province at all. Unless you go to the ocean. I think I’ll be able to see the ocean in Moncton. I miss the ocean.

Last night I had a delightful seafood dinner and chatted with a nice woman whose name I cannot remember. She was originally from Ontario, but moved to New Brunswick because she loves the pace of it. I smiled and nodded. What she meant is that she’s kind of like an old person. That’s alright, though. We need people like her in the world to relax for the rest of us.

I may go and try to rustle up some food, now.

So, I was feeling a wee bit downtrodden, I suppose because of the lack of sleep and whatnot, but when I went to go get food I discovered the most delightful people.

The first person I met was Jean-Marc, who is a Columbia alum (Class of 2000 and then for his masters, 2002). He didn’t speak English very well, but we had a good long talk. Turns out that he’d lived in Furnald and East Campus, and we talked about Ferris and Lerner and all good Columbia things. He’s working for VIA now because he hated what he was doing in genetics, but apparently they pay $25 an hour and are looking for summer students. Hmmm…

While I was sitting and chatting with Jean Marc, two musicians popped into the lounge and asked if they could play. Though it’s against the rules, no one seemed to mind and so there was some lovely impromptu bluegrass. I left to go pack my things, as we’re now stuck behind a freight train outside of Moncton, and met a nice old lady who, as it turns out, is a bartender at the legion.

Thank God for caffeine, is all I have to say. Perhaps I shall go find those musicians again.

PS. I did find those musicians again. They were cool. You should go see them.

www.strangeboys.ca

New Year's Resolutions

- Run more often

- Save my money for traveling

- Cook myself breakfast and dinner (read: buy groceries)

- Actually learn how to play the guitar

- Organize a battle of the bands

- Actually prepare for an audition

- Be environmentally friendly

- Be better dressed

A Running Commentary on "It's a Wonderful Life."

Notes on Watching It’s a Wonderful Life.”

I’m watching It’s A Wonderful Life and I realized that I did in fact work for a building and loan corporation and that perhaps the field of work was not actually evil. This movie makes me really happy. “I don’t want Mrs. Bailey, I want my wife. Wait, that is my wife.” I love old movies because they’re the only ones that introduce us to the main characters without having to give us their internal monologue or slap us in the face with their characters. We begin as strangers and stay that way for a while. I like that in a movie.

No, don’t do it, George! Don’t accept Potter’s offer! He’s evil!

Oh, good. He realized it when he shook his hand. “You’re nothing but a scurvy little spider!”

You want the moon? I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for you.

Oh, Uncle Billy, you are a silly, silly man!

George, you, however, are an angry man. You lash out when you are stressed. I think you need some sort of anger management. Maybe you should do some yoga.

“I’m not sleepy. I want to look at my flower.”

Oh, no! George, you are so sad. Noooooo! Don’t jump off that bridge. Goddamit! Commercial break.

Oh, how I love Canadian TV. They have the “Doncha put it in your mouth” commercial. Wow. That’s the most horrifying looking lion that I’ve ever seen:

I’m here to introduce the Lee Majors Bionic Hearing Aid. That’s so depressing. Dear Lord. He’s so old. WHY IS THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN ON AN INFOMERCIAL? This is so upsetting. Commercial break, obviously.

“We don’t need any characters around to give the joint atmosphere.”

“Every time you hear a bell ring it means that some angel’s just got his wings.”

I missed the first half hour of the movie. What? The old man was going to poison a child? Why?

Oh, no! Now that he wasn’t born, the town has turned into a den of sin! Why doesn’t it snow anymore?

Oh good, everything is saved. And now I’m crying. This is beautiful. What a wonderful film.