"Glass" by Paige Taylor

Glass shattered. My head jerked to the side. Buzzing filled my ears. A man shouted, feet pounded across the floor, voices murmured in a dull roar. My body tensed on its own accord. Blinding white lights burned into my retinas. Few eyes turned towards the scattered pieces, little attention for the person standing amongst them. Bodies milled in every direction, not many caring for the commotion. One voice cut through the din. “Write your name on the board,” called the head Chef. I rolled my eyes. Poor girl. Dropping dishes in the kitchen was seen as a crime these days.

"Calvin Was..." A short story By Greg Hernandez

No matter how short a story is, a complete story must be told. From beginning to end something must happen, the reader must experience a journey-no matter how short it is.

This is my first ever 100 word story.
 A 100 word story is difficult to write because of the obvious reason: the word count. 99, 100, 101 whoops! As you can see, I incorporated the first two words of the story into the title.

Now this whole 100 word short story exercise was born out of a necessity of understanding that every single word is important to the story!  This was a workout for the creative juices. It's fun and time consuming (ironic)!

Enjoy.

Calvin Was…

            Lazier than us all, and he never got out of bed before 1pm. He wanted to diet.

The ubiquitous mess in his room was in the form of corn muffin wrappers, bags of potato chips, banana peels, clothes, piles of old AM newspapers and magazines, video game discs and “Yu-gi-oh” cards. A loud obnoxious steady ringing emanated from his iPhone, he silenced it with one touch. Thoughts of what to do on a chilly and breezy day in March began to form as he scratched his crotch and rubbed his belly. Two words echoed…

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"New Jersey> New York" By Greg Hernandez

When I think of New Jersey, I think of obdurate, obnoxious and pretentious people. I visualize the dark color of their drinking water.  I smell, oh do I smell New Jersey. Driving down the Turnpike while a miasma of ass hangs around the car; the odor is interminable. Each passing exit sign almost seems to bolster the fetor. That's New Jersey for me.

This past Monday my perception of the state changed. State Sen. Nicholas Scutari held a news conference at the Statehouse in Trenton, where he introduced his plan for legal marijuana. New Jersey might become the third state in the country to legalize pot.

Scutari's record displays the successful implementation of a medicinal marijuana law for the state.
He now wants to move New Jersey forward and beyond the United States' "archaic drug laws."

Fine, I believe a majority of the country is in consensus with him. However right the logic may be, one must always take into account the chicanery. Colorado reportedly earned 2 million in its first month of legalization (January). This is about the money. He's not fooling anyone. Not getting beyond archaism, sure it has held us back, but not for the reasons Scutari has stated. Legalization of pot will increase revenue, tourism, political cache, population, real estate value and status.

I'll only focus on status for right now. Last month New Jersey hosted one of the most financially successful Super Bowls ever. Now competition wise, it left much to be desired, but for all else it was a home run for the organizers. Now, if Scutari were to get his way. New Jersey's status in the country, if not the world would increase 100 fold.

There are 13 states with pending legalization to legalize medical marijuana

1. Florida
2. Kansas
3. Kentuckty
4. Maryland
5. Minnesota
6. Missouri
7. New York
8. Ohio
9. Pennsylvania
10. South Carolina
11. Tennennesse
12. West Virginia
13. Wisconsin

New Jersey is ahead of New York and that is sad. It's illegal to smoke pot in the supposedly greatest city in the world. The two states are 20 minutes apart. New Jersey will likely become the new hot spot. I'm laughing now, are you?

I guess New Jersey may soon begin to smell like something other than ass. It may however have to wait until after Govenor, "I clog my arteries just like I clog bridges" Chris Christie is out of office. On his
"Ask the Governor" program on New Jersey radio station WKXW-FM 101.5, he was asked by a caller whether the governor would consider legalizing marijuana to bring more tax revenue into the state."Mike, I love you, baby, but it ain't happenin', not while I'm governor," Christie said.

Well, there you have it. Scutari and Christie are on opposite sides of the spectrum. Scutari wants to modernize the drug laws, while Christie believes the argument in the legalization of pot and boost of revenue is not an "even exchange."

*Fun note- I had one friend from New Jersey tell me this apparent fact, "The majority of the state smells like trees, because the majority of the state is trees. In fact, three of new jersey's cities rank in the countries top 10 least polluted."

Only thing was he could not name a single city...

"11 must visit spots in NYC" By Greg Hernandez

So, you have a friend or a relative coming to the big apple for the very first time. Of course you want to show them non-tourists attractions; get them beyond the obvious and the mundane, show them the neat places that you hang out at.

Perhaps you wish to take a significant other to an awesome intimate venue for a date. 

Who knows, you may just want to check out a new spot. 

You need some suggestions, well...read on!

  I have compiled a list of eleven must see spots in New York City. This list represents a collective assortment of places I have visited and revisited over the last year.  So, in no particular order here goes!

• "Film Society of Lincoln Center" and "MoMA"- Yes Spring is finally here and there are plenty of things to do! Instead of going to spend unnecessary money at the multiplex, try something different. Experience new films in the New Directors/New Films at Walter Reade Theater and MoMA. The line up includes- "A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night," a black and white Iranian vampire film. "The Double," an adaptation of the Fyodor Dotoevsky novella, starring Jesse Eisenberg and Mia Wasikowska. "Dear White People," a satire about college campus integration. "Obvious Child," a Brooklyn-set comedy. "We Come as Friends" presents an inside look at life in South Sudan from a multitude of angles. "The Babadook" is an Australian horror flick. Its tasty spin on the haunted house form should be delightfully and interesting. Finally, "Return to Home," is a documentary with an immersive look into the Syrian hot spot.
  
  
•  "Strand Bookstore"- If you LOVE BOOKS then you must visit this special bookstore! What makes it special you ask? Well, first of all you can find nearly ALL titles for cheaper prices than many other bookstores in New York City. An exceptionally friendly and knowledgeable staff is happy to assist you. Why would they be happy? They love reading and talking about books, duh! A very expansive and organized store with up to three floors of books. Warning: entering this sanctuary may cause you to spend more time than you planned on. Also, you end up spending more than you thought, because well, the prices are so good and there are just too many books not to buy. You've been warned. One final caveat, I only buy books here that I either cannot find in the Library or deeply wish to own so I can re-read them.
  
  
•  "The Immigrant"- is a very small wine bar that has mastered the art of ambiance. This is the perfect place to take your significant other for some wine and conversation. A relaxed atmosphere with a good selection of wines.  Think you will have trouble finding a seat? Well, good news! The popularity of this wine bar has grown exponentially causing it to expand its business. Next door is the "The Immigrant Tap Room" which is a craft beer bar, which also contains a few wines on selections-(about 5).
• "Fat Cat"- a gem. Right off the 1 train on Christopher Street and located near West 4th street. Fat Cat displays the full repertoire-(Air Hockey, Backgammon, Billiards, Chess, Jenga, Foosball, Ping-Pong, Scrabble and an amazing improv Jazz band). 3$ cover charge. This is the spot to go to on a Friday night. I personally like to head here early in the evening around 7ish to avoid long waits for pool. However, if you're with a trio of friends. Yes, 3-4 is the perfect number; you can occupy yourselves by drinking, watching the jazz band perform, air-hockey, and Foosball. One caveat, this place DOES GET EXCEEDINGLY CROWDED. Get here at a decent hour, because if not forget it. Lines can stretch out from the bar and down to the street.
  
  
• "Wine Escape"- Yes, I love wine bars. Chile did this to me...go ahead and judge me! This cozy little wine bar located in Hell's Kitchen has an extensive selection of international wines. Tremendous service, I've only been here twice, but each time my water glass was continuously filled. This is a perfect spot for a first date or a catching up with a friend. Do not worry about finding a seat here. Be patient, people do not linger long. This place can be more on the pricey side; however the wine, the service, the ambiance and location validate the price.
  
  
• "Barcade"- is exactly what it sounds like, an arcade within a bar. A unique blend of craft beers and old-school video games. Typically, the games only cost a QUARTER! My friend Nj Agwuna suggested this spot to me. We came here on V-day with a group of friends and had an awesome time! TMNT! Nice spot in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Clean bathrooms, lots of seating, hispter crowd and no cover. I'll definitely be visiting again for the Mrs. Pac-Man game. I will someday break that high score!
  
  
• "Joe's Pizza"- You'll remember this spot from the second Spider-man film. Have a friend that has never tried New York Pizza before? Normally you go to Brooklyn, but if you cannot make the trip, no worry there’s Joe Pizza near Union Square. Best not to go for plain here, they specialize in different brand of slices. Try the fresh mozzarella slice, the spinach slices and Sicilian slices.
  
  
• "Wayside Cafe"- Sure this is a major spot for NYU students-(20% off). However, that shouldn't stop you from visiting this neat little cafe. With its minimalist design, friendly staff, tasty sandwiches, treats, good dirty chai and wine why wouldn't you stop by? I come here once a month for the atmosphere and the location. Wayside Cafe is located near Union Square, which means it is near Strand's Bookstore and Amsterdam Billiards.
  
  
• "Shake Shack"- I had my last cheese burger here. Yes, I'm changing my diet. However, if you're still eating meat, and then by all means check this place out. It’s more on the expensive side but the amazing food and milk shakes make up for it. Bottom line is the long lines are there for a reason!
  
  
• "Beer Culture"- BEER!- Need I say more?
  
  Well there is my list! I hope the next time you're looking for cool places to check out in New York City you will consider some of these spots!

"Our Personal Deities" By Greg Hernandez

Upon finishing "American Gods," by Neil Gaiman, I came to a startling conclusion. I do believe in God! Of course I do not believe in the typical demiurge but rather a deity that is suitable to my passions and self-interests. I believe in the God of literature, performing arts, creativity, sleep-I would believe in the God of peace, but I am pretty sure it either does not exist or has been on an extended vacation.

I pray to the Gods of literature, performing arts, creativity and sleep by essentially devoting my time and energy in quotidian fashion. I read books-plays, novels, novellas, graphic novels, magazines, short story collections, poems, etc. I audition, attend Broadway plays, stage readings, one-acts, musical improv shows, musicals, stand up, dance, etc. I write-short stories, screen plays, plays, blogs, cover letters, essays, articles, I listen to good music-I know its good! I sleep as much as possible. Napping is my favorite past time. I make time for it, a 20 minute power nap keeps me sane.

The bookstore is my church. The public library is my chapel. The stage is my sanctuary. My bed is a cocoon. My headphones are the instruments of escape. All give me bliss. I show reverence. Each day that I read, act, listen to music, write and sleep is a blessing.

Everybody prays to a God. The God of money, focus, sex, popularity, attitude, confidence, equality, hyperbole, media, technology, violence, drugs, racism. sexism, agism, the lottery, sports, video games, travel, food, clothing, beauty, history, politics, consumerism, coporation and oh yeah, peace.

I have faith in my Gods. Do you have faith in yours?

"Go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing in art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heavens sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something." -Kurt Vonnegut

"I am the god of tits and wine." Tyion Lannister

"Hey! I'm driving here!" By Greg Hernandez

Remember the flick, "Midnight Cowboy?"

 The infamous scene here: "Hey, I'm walkin here!"

I love this scene, but the cars deserve their own video too. Perhaps Hoffman can star in another motion picture soon where he's the rude taxi driver, screaming, "Hey, I'm driving here!"

Ever jaywalked in New York City before? Sure you have, don't lie. We all have. No cars insight, I go. Car coming, who cares, I can make it. We all do it without a care in the world. As soon as we touch down on the sidewalk we instantly feel vindicated. Like George Carlin once said, "Cops didn't see it, I didn't do it." Who has the time to follow the rules? Why wait? Sprint, run, jog, skip across the street before the car hits you-feel the glow of their high beams on you at night. Hell, if you time it right and succeed you can even feel the heat of their high beams as you just manage to scamper by.

Alright, alright enough fooling around let's get to the point.

I know, I know Mayor Bill De Blasio wants to reduce the city speed limit from 30MPH to 25MPH. I know, I know the NYPD is making a strong-armed effort to ticket those pesky jaywalkers. At least the blitz lasted for about a week. I know, I know its all for naught-you cannot arrest or limit free will-those who wish to forsake an important childhood safety tip: looking both ways before crossing; deserve their inevitable grisly fate. "That’s people running out and being struck. They’re actually standing in intersections," Sgt. Felicia Montgomery said. It's all because of that damn Candy Crush Saga: "You see people, they’re not paying attention," the precinct's commanding officer, Capt. Michael Falcon, said. "They’re looking at their phones."

When it comes to life, only the living have a sense of humor about it. I imagine someone surviving a collision with a vehicle, laying in bed, paralyzed and heavily bandaged like a mummy-surrounded by their various relatives and friends. The mood is morose, yet unanimous, no more Candy Crush, ever again.

Well...I believe we have an answer here. What is an effective way to get a message out to the masses? Their smart phones. An overwhelming majority of New Yorkers have smart phones. Hell, its conformity, you don't have one you're living in the 90s or early 2000's. Christ, are we shallow-that is far too recent of a time. Mayor De Blasio must get his message out to the masses somehow. Reducing the speed limit and having the cops ticket jaywalkers is pointless. I know he must do something as Mayor, I'm aware some people like his idea, despite his current 39% approval rating. I don't mind his plan, it doesn't bother me-there is some validity to it, however, it would be an embarrassing law if approved. In New York City you can only drive 25 MPH in the streets. Why? Because the pedestrians are so brave- I mean stupid.

No law or speed limit adjustment can bring people closer to the sidewalks where they belong until the light changes to red, It cannot slow down an oncoming driver trying to make it pass yellow either. This is New York City. Its hectic and crowded. There are too many people and too many vehicles to regulate. Mayor Bill De Blasio should drop this futile campaign immediately. All the cameras and police officers will not make much difference. Catching even a majority of jaywalkers is an impossible endeavor. Limiting the speed of a majority of  the vehicles is laughable.

The effort on both accounts is loudly superfluous. Chances are if you get hit by someone who is sober at the wheel, you probably caused your own injury or death. So many tourists, so many naive new yorkers, so many idiots with poor judgment. Perhaps jaywalking is an acquired skill that many people have yet to learn. From my own experience I have come to the realization that this whole issue is revolved around two basic states of endurance: patience and attention span.

It does not require much patience to wait 30 seconds on the sidewalk while the light changes. No, of course not, but who really does that-anyone? Very few. I conducted my own social experiment from March 1-8 (afternoon only). While walking around the streets of New York City that week, I carried around a small notebook, in which I took detailed notes of every block I crossed. I would stop at every green light on the sidewalk and take an approximate count of all jaywalkers, people waiting on the street, people who had their phones out, cars that had to honk just to get by and cars that missed the light because of crowds of pedestrians.  I won't bore you with all the data, but the numbers were high for all categories. Now, transitioning into attention span, which is defined as "the amount of concentrated time on a task without becoming distracted." Oh, New Yorkers are good at that. We are dedicated to our phones. Walking toward oncoming traffic does not distract us. Learned behavior beats common sense any day of the week.

Remember we're human beings, we need laws telling us not to text/call while driving. Death is a natural process of life. It is meant to wipe out the weak-in this case the stupid. Now, I believe if you're caught texting and driving your license should be permanently revoked. If you're caught calling while driving, I believe some leeway is in order. Finally, if you're jaywalking and get hit by car, you should be fined for your stupidity. The fine should be doubled if you have no health insurance, because what the hell were you thinking? Oh, that's right you were not.  The fine should be tripled if you were on your phone. Let's get serious De Blasio. With all the surveillance equipment at this government's disposal, I have no doubt in my mind that a clear picture or video could be produced of someone nonchalantly walking down the street with their phone out and then getting mowed down by a truck. I would record it over and over again and have it used as a mandatory tutorial video in every single smartphone. That way you will have an audience. When you purchase a new smart phone you are required by law to view the video detailing when to not use this phone. Or hell, perhaps smartphones should be smart enough to turn off every time we cross the street. Humans are dumb, technology should be made aware of that fact by now. It'll help them boost their confidence when they battle us for world domination. Attention span, attention span, come on stick to the solutions!

I have one more. Hire a million street crossing guards so nobody will die. Pay them well, let's say 13-18 bucks an hour. Forget the light. From now on you cross when the cross guard waves you over with a special signal. What is the signal you're asking? Well, I'll tell you. The sign will no longer be sporting "Stop" and "Go" like in the past, instead those two words will be replaced with: "Cross/ Dumbasses." Can't you picture it when you see a professional New York cross guard waves you over? The black sunglasses and pristine smirk on their faces as they work out their wrists, flipping the sign back and forth: "Cross/Dumbassess/Cross." You'll wish they had a whistle instead.

"Moscato" by Paige Taylor

My life in a living hell started with a call from one of my best friends. She was breathless with excitement as she told me about her job opening positions for waitressing. The thought of me joining her made her ecstatic. Someone would be there to share in her life of imprisonment.  She was also excited because if any of her friends were accepted, and stayed for three months, she would be awarded a $100 finder’s fee.

The job was in another state, hours from where I currently lived. I was reluctant to move so far for a waitressing position. She told me they were promising that I would make about $900 a night, have a 401 K, all kinds of insurances, a flexible spending account, employee discounts, education reimbursement, and paid time off. Intriguing? Yes. The possibility of making that much money in a single night would be any recent college graduates dream.

I was excited for about five minutes before that fizzed out. I was busy watching TV, the thought of having to pack up my house and move sounded too exhausting. I forgot about the possibility for a while, but when I went to visit my mom a couple weeks later, my friend was again calling and begging me to come to lunch at her wine bar so she could convince a manager to give me an interview.

My mom heard how much I could be making and demanded that I go visit Phoebe. She told me I would be crazy to pass up on a possibility like that, and I would regret not giving it a try. I was still against the idea so I threw on high heeled boots, skin tight skinny jeans, and a v-cut top. It wasn’t much of an outfit for an interview. Perfect.

I trudged out to my car and threw myself in. I zoned out, as I always do on boring trips, and took the hairpin turns at a relatively slow pace compared to my usual NASCAR style driving. Once there, I wandered leisurely into the place, waving off the greeter, and sat at the bar. The menu was a little high class for me, so I took a stab at a glass of sweet wine the bartender recommended and a cob salad. No tomatoes, no corn, no blue cheese.

After being verbally molested by the bartender for twenty minutes, his endless stream of inappropriate jokes had him laughing like a hyena on many occasions, I was beginning to shove the food in my mouth a little faster. My overwhelming desire to flee this man’s company was making the prospect of working there less promising by the minute. I was saved by a man walking out with a large case of wine. When I looked at him, he said, “Who’s ready to crack some of these open and start drinking?” I laughed, thinking he was a delivery man of sorts.

Phoebe appeared a few minutes later, grinning like a fool. The guy I had assumed was the delivery man wasn’t far behind. “So, Pheobe says you are hoping to get a job here. If you want an interview come with me.” He walked away, expecting me to follow, not looking back to see if had gotten up off my seat.

During my interview, I told him I didn’t really know anything about food, or wine for that matter, and that I wasn’t very good at upselling. I think I was subconsciously trying to sabotage my chances. He told me he liked my honesty. When I said I was good at reading people, he asked me to read him. I told him that he liked his job and took it very seriously, but you had to be careful what kind of jokes you made around him. But don’t let that fool you he knew how to relax and have fun. His eyes widened to an alarming size and he said I was exactly right. He was so impressed he hired me on the spot.

I was in too much shock to say anything. When he went to get the paperwork, I glared at Phoebe. “You totally just threw me under the bus!” He came back and all I could think about was that I didn’t really want to take the job, but there wasn’t much I could do. He wasn’t exactly asking me if I wanted it.

He asked me if I was really going to go through with it, went over my resume, stopping to note that I didn’t have any waitressing experience. I pointed out that the four previous jobs were hostessing and waitressing. Clearly the man can’t read. He said I hadn’t made this very clear. I underlined words on the paper with my finger. “Describe you position and what your job requirements were:” My answer, “Waitressing: serving customers, side work, occasionally hostessing and bartending.”

My previous appreciation for this man and his ability to make a joke, even in his position, was beginning to turn into a sliver of dislike. At our departure, he informed me that I would never be able to drink there again. Understandable, I guess. Also, I wasn’t allowed to drink the $13 a glass of wine he had so rudely interrupted me from finishing earlier. Not cool. I chugged it when he wasn’t looking. He stopped his retreat to turn back and promise me that I would make more money there than I had ever made before, and more than I would ever make living in New York. It’s very nice of him to pretty much assume he is saving me from a life of poverty, but oh well, I now had a big girl job. Who’s ready for a celebratory drink?

"Eggs" By Greg Hernandez

 "How come when its us, its an abortion, but when its a chicken its an omelet?" George Carlin

Could I stop eating eggs? No more baked goods, energy bars, eggnog, salad dressing, ice cream, pudding, protein shakes, or hard-boiled eggs after a run. Can I change up my diet? Is it possible to remove myself from the consumption network of eggs? I know about industrialized factory farming, how it kills millions of chickens while obtaining their eggs each year.

This visual evidence temporarily traumatized me. Male chicks It caused me to research and investigate the innards of the farming industry. Some people will argue that this practice is a more humane way for the chicks to die. Quick. The conditions in which these animals are grown and slaughtered is despicable and far worse than how they are killed. Now, the worst part was not being shocked at these practices. I found myself reminiscing of other medias that perpetuated the notion of how horrifying our eating habits are because of the dire consequences for animals.

My friend Joslyn had this to say about this video.

 "After this went viral on FB, horrified people were saying that they'll never eat chicken nuggets again. That's good, but these male baby chicks are not killed to be made into nuggets. They're killed simply because they serve NO purpose. This video was part of an undercover investigation at a hatchery/breeding facility in Iowa. Only the females are kept alive in order to breed & make more eggs. When you purchase eggs, this is what you support."

Remember the critically acclaimed animated film, "Chicken Run?" Chicken Run Trailer. It came out in 2000. I loved that film for obvious reasons. However, one reason why I instantly thought about it was how this was one of the earlier films in my life that represented the human race for what we truly are-apathetic, greedy, ruthless and violent creatures without much reason. You root for the chickens against the humans. You are happy when they find a sanctuary by the film's end. Now, I could care less when an animal hunts and kills another. After all that is like going to the supermarket for them. Only instead of dealing with a rush to get to the fastest line, there is a rush to eat the carcass and split before a bigger animal comes to take your meal away. Now, if you miss out on the sale, it may be a while before you manage to find another super market, understand?

For personal reasons I enjoy it when human beings are the "bad guys." Sure, there are plenty of good people out there, but the bad ones have a propensity to cause more harm, noise and warfare. To go the more subtle route, I always had this thought floating in my mind-how would we feel if a superior species came to Earth, beat us in a global war, enslaved us, and then wanted to use, abuse, and eat us? Imagine a world where behaving in an obsequious manner toward the new superior species is the only means of survival. Imagine being cultivated. You cry out for help, but cannot be understood. A majority of this new species does not care about our pain. They display few amounts of empathy. Imagine being bred in the worst conditions possible. These thoughts resurfaced after watching that first video last night.

I believe humor is an immense aspect of coping with the calamities in life. Like Bukowski once said, either get drunk, laugh, or kill yourself. I'd rather get drunk and laugh. I have all of the respect in the world for comedians. George Carlin bit on abortion is simply iconic.George Carlin-Pro-life, Abortion, Sanctity of Life.

I guess for me, what it comes down to is the reality of it all. Human beings, are not after all designed to eat meat. I do not need to eat any meat. Perhaps I could become a vegetarian. No burgers, chicken, fish, lamb, steak. If I'm starving on a deserted island some day I'll hunt a peacock, roast it over a fire and eat it with gusto like Harrison Ford in Six days, Seven nights.

 I joked with my friend about wanting cake some day. She said sure, I'll use plenty of eggs.

"Lexicon Change" By Greg Hernandez

Spring cleaning is near. Clean up your lexicon the right way-let go these phrases.

No, I will not be lecturing or reprimanding anyone that currently uses any of the following phrases. I am merely stating that perhaps you should begin to wean yourself of them, for the list that you are about to read is outdated. Yes, outdated-old, out of style, so last whatever year they first became known. These quotidian phrases have grown irksome. Its time to let em go, don't you think? Forget the judge and jury for a second, I'm the lawyer and here's my case.

1. SMH- "Shaking My Head." Look, I get it. You have a gauche friend who constantly makes fatuous statements and you just cannot help yourself to shake your head. Their loquaciousness justifies the motion of your physical reaction to their comments. Hell, the length of your friendship probably directly correlates with your neck pain.
   We all do it. We hear something completely asinine and go through the motion-drop your head, sigh, and shake your head from side to side. All I am asking is, do we really need to say it aloud? Typing it-I believe is a different matter. I say, more leeway should be given to typing it out in an online conversation. You want the person you're talking to to know what they just said made you face-palm and shake your head.
2. "I'm Busy"- Unless you gave up Facebook for Lent, you're not that busy. You could be working two jobs, in graduate school, in two plays that run concurrently-get it, you're not busy. In this age of instantaneous communication the "busy excuse" is all but extinct. Why? No one is truly busy enough to not respond to you in a timely manner (Minimum 48 hours), because if you are, then you're a monk or a nun. I speak from experience. My senior year of college was filled with various perturbations-being a Resident Assistant, Coaching a co-recreational football team, acting in two plays, Don Boro's class, having a girlfriend, and trying to balance a social life-that only accentuated the challenge of maintaining a respectable GPA. However, I did it.
   I got to know many of my residents on a personal level, I'm still good friends with my ex-girlfriend, I performed well in the two plays, I passed Boro's class, I kept many of my friends and made even more. Sure, I did not see many of my friends through out the hectic year, but the point is, when I did manage to see them-even if it was only 2-3 minutes max- I made the most of it. I did not kowtow to my busy schedule. It really is no excuse. Effective time management skills can ease an active schedule.
3. "He/She is Out of My League" I could just answer this with one word, "Bullshit," but I won't. Remember the film "Fight Club?" There is a special scene when Brad Pitt's character-Tyler Durden- is talking to his disciples about how none of them are special. Check it out.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X2AvfSTi6Q  Yes, we're all unique, but not really. I advise loving yourself and feeling that nice hint of hubris in your system. Whenever someone tells you that someone is out of your league, please do this: Scoff, finish your drink, walk toward said person and commence flirting, get their number, and if you should fail, please strut back and tell your friend, it was that person's loss, not mine.
4. "I'm Broke"As we all know the oligarchy has always been the norm. So, to those impecunious individuals I say this, start from the bottom and slowly rise. Take which ever job you can. Whether you're a bum on a street or a young adult straight out of college-find a way to get your foot through that door for a job interview. Sure, the government takes care of the homeless- to some degree, most of them end up back on the streets, but very few do make it out of the homeless bubble, for those that don't, well, there is just no saving the damned. Now, for those who are not homeless, get the ball rolling. Get a friend to look over your resume and cover letter. Start mass applying to jobs, yes, network with friends to get the best options. Iron your clothes, dress business like and get the hell out of your house! Oh, if you're 25 and in need of a job, read my old blog post- http://bingfuse.blogspot.com/2014/02/25-and-in-need-of-better-job-run-for.html
5. "Buddy" When a man calls me this, I immediately assume he is mocking me, unless he is from Europe or South America. Regardless, the word, "buddy" is emblematic of what a serious friendship should be-buddies. Now, if we're still in that probationary period of our friendship 3 months or less, try not to let that word slip out of your mouth, because chances are someone will laugh, ask you to repeat what you said then laugh again when you eventually do, or get upset. Women laugh and men tend to get upset. Nothing is funnier when two men call each other buddies. It is only said when one man is trying to serve as the others alibi.
   In New York City buddy is a dangerous word. Yeah, buddy, buddy is a word not to use unless you're about to fight someone. "Hey buddy, move it or lose it! I'm walking here, out of my way! Move buddy! Hey buddy stop being such an asshole!"
   See what I mean? In New York "buddy" is a derogatory word, believe me.
6. "It's the least I can do" Speaking of assholes and shaking your head. This phrase is beyond jejune. Sure, you want to look helpful. Look, but not really be. Its all on the surface. The very least I can do to help is a preposterous statement. Why? The natural response when someone  utters the phrase is to call their bluff and give them as much work to help out with as possible. So for all of your future experiences, refrain from saying this! Instead, say, "what can I help out with?" If you're lucky the person may say nothing or may only be able to think of the bare minimum for you to do. If you're unlucky then that person can recite a whole list of things for you to do for them. If you're the guilty type who feels obligated to help out. Well, I cannot help you.
7. "YOLO" I saved this one for last because its my favorite one. I fell in love with this phrase ever since this happened: http://newsfeed.time.com/2012/09/19/aspiring-rapper-drunk-tweets-yolo-just-before-fatal-car-crash/
    As I've previously said, you cannot save the damned. In this age of precipitous actions that prove to be fatal one can only look at the irony of such an obvious phrase. Yes, we only live once, so live your life as recklessly as possible and live to the fullest and die as young as possible. I have friends who yell this phrase when partying, which I find to be hilarious. Others take it too far and it becomes quite sad.

"My Slow Fade" By Greg Hernandez

There are a myriad of reasons as to why someone may decide to exit your life without telling you. The reasons range from avoiding a messy conflict, to finding this particular approach-the "slow fade," to be the most polite form of ending a relationship or a friendship. It is believed to be less painful then hearing the words, "We should see other people" and "I don't want to be friends anymore." It is less painful than seeing the person who blew you off for a second date last week, walk down the street toward you and act as if they did not see you. You stop them and begin to initiate a false conversation. They put on a facade of possessing a hectic lifestyle and being unable to accommodate you. It is less painful than breaking up over the phone. It is less painful than seeing your relationship status change on Facebook, or being blocked for that matter.

 I will not be writing about whether it is right or wrong to pull a “slow fade” on someone. Instead, I will be illustrating a potential result of it, so that others may see the consequences of the “slow fade” and think more deeply about it. Let's call it: Blogging it forward.

A “slow fade” is when a person emotionally tip-toes out of your life. Their final prestidigitation leaves you scratching your head and obsessing over how things went awry. Your emotional door is left open and the impending draft is set to wreak havoc on your mental health. Your equilibrium can easily be shattered without some form of closure to act as a quilt to keep you warm. When the door is finally slammed shut, the damage has already been done. You're permanently scarred. You've been lead on, deceived, and most of all abandoned. A living being left to find out it has been discarded, not replaced, but out of mind, is like a foul stench of melancholy engulfing a person.

The “slow fade” approach will possibly leave someone in an agonizing process of self-doubt in which one's ego crumbles through absurd second guessing, incessant replaying of events, and obstinately texting, calling, e-mailing and messaging the person who is evidently reluctant to respond. The whys repeatedly pierce your heart, not enough blood is being pumped to the brain to form an answer-you realize this logic is superfluous so you momentarily bow out of figuring the other person's reasoning out, before resuming a process that resembles that of a masochist. The thought of, “perhaps I'm being ignored,” begins to form. You call them on your house phone or from a payphone. No answer. This could be your biggest mistake or your epiphany. It merely depends on the situation and the corresponding people. One last question echoes your mind, “are they dead?” Who knows?
People say, it's not a “slow fade” at all-the “slow fade” title is asinine. It should be called the "BANG RECALL," because that is how the person truly leaves your life, with a bang! The noise, smoke and hole in your heart all linger. The person who left you without notice just pulled a drive by on your feelings, self-esteem and soul. I disagree. “Slow fade” is the appropriate name for this phenomenon. The bang occurs immediately, almost instinctively for the person who decides to pull the slow fade itself. Its effect is instantaneous. The weight is off. Sure, their thoughts will remain, but the responsibility has vanished. That person has checked out, while the other remains blissfully ignorant. When the other person begins to notice, well the bang occurs. What!?!? I have not heard from them in three days...my calls have not been returned...my texts have not been answered...I've left a voice message and am currently leaving another. A week passes. You start to look through your texts and Facebook messages to decipher which phrase, sentence, or word you could have possibly sent that might have caused them to exit out the back door of your life. That is the recall aspect. The pain is immense. Does the other person even care? Did they sashay out of my life? Are they testing me? Are they deceiving me? No. They need space. I will wait, but for how long?
If only you could know the thoughts of the person who withdrew from your life. Well, you're not a mind-reader. Their process of thinking will forever be elusive to you. The future cannot be altered. The past remains heavy like a giant cinder block tied around your neck. It weighs you down. You cannot think, your mind is a fog of past euphoria, heightened by the distinct certainty of the wrong; an error in your ways caused this pain, the fault must lie with you, because if not, then would it not take more courage to leave without saying good-bye? If this occurred after a date, you wonder about their safety; the worst scenarios enter your mind, the guilt over seeking recompense, yet at the very same time feeling wronged is ubiquitous. 

After a few days your rationale has all but deteriorated. If your resolve has remained strong, then anger may have consumed you. You may even wonder how you would feel if the person sat down and told you how they felt and what their intentions were. Without that action there is a hole; selfishness burrows away in your psyche. You're the victim. They are the abuser. They have forsaken you. That is how you may feel. The slow burning effect of one's empathy is a dark spectacle to behold. A tiny glimmer of hope disappearing as the hours, days, and weeks pass without any contact from the person. You've become hollow. Nothing can hurt you. You may never allow yourself to open up to someone like that again. Vulnerability is a sin to you. You safeguard your heart through an armor of sarcasm, toughness, indifference and lack of commitment. You refuse to hurt again. If you are “slow faded” once more, it will be different next time, for the first time, you were taken unawares. You've been baptized in forlornness. The next time, you will not despair. Next time, you will let them fade into oblivion. You walk with a grudge against the world; like an impecunious individual, for it gave birth to the circumstances which plague you so.

We avoid those we happen to see on the train. We turn our heads so they do not see our faces. We try our absolute best to avoid conversation with that particular person. If they see us and approach us we cringe; their slow walk from their current position toward us is agonizing. They stand or sit near us and begin a futile conversation. Nothing comes to fruition. Much to their chagrin they notice how awkward and painful it is for us to merely speak to them. They cut the conversation short and walk toward the other side of the car-never looking back-to sit, exhale and re-play what just happened. Reality sinks in. The “slow fade” is gone. We watch them walk away. Maybe we feel a hint of relief with a mixture of remorse.

Who knows what we feel in this life? We are so connected, yet loathe communication. We sever ties impassively...networking seems to keep us alive. We use people, who use us, for personal gain. It is all about reaching the top of our individual precipice. Along the climb we cast away all others who we deem unworthy of our time and company.