GhostNewYorkFor the un-PC
ghstnewyork
read my profile
sign my guestbook

Visit ghstnewyork's Xanga Site!

Name: Ning
Gender: Female


Interests: Being a failure. And avoiding my mother.
Expertise: Screwing up everything I do.
Occupation: Legal
Industry: Legal


Message: message meEmail: email me


Member Since: 5/11/2002

SubscriptionsSites I Read
OV3rP0w3R
StrangerAtHome
Guardian1
nomes212
Stellae
teddyknight
ckadele
kb501
Blade_Child
GoFroggieGo
xxLilPauliexx
La_Bailareina
mickywu
SmallPotatoInTheBigApple
huligan
imnotthepuzzlepieces
trinn
lynxi
changes13
rain74
spatuladeity
blueMonk
soybeanboy
JarJar007
siscnos
object
JoRdAn_SeGuNdO_4_LyFe
BigMommaJo
flipdon
ArticTheBear
Smileheart
pengster
NamelessMirage
Badtzmarugirl31
our_heroine
OrionRionIonOnN
Lost1Soul
oopsies

Blogrings
BallroomGroovers
previous - random - next

.: NYU :.
previous - random - next

*[DANCE]*
previous - random - next

Dancing Through My Eyes
previous - random - next


Posting Calendar

|<< oldest | newest >>|
view all weblog archives

Get Involved!

Suggest a link

Recommend to friend

Create a site


Monday, May 12, 2008

Armies

After three days of itching and scratching, I finally figured out why my face has been swelling into a red puffy balloon every night. It's because my favorite cafe, in which I have been studying almost every day, is host to an army of mosquitos that like to bite only me. So today, in a moment of positive retaliatory genius, I went to CVS and bought the most foul-smelling, chemically complex drugstore foundation they had and smeared it all over my face before I headed for the cafe. Sure, the mosquitos can still attack me, but only at risk of their own lives. Now, after four and a half hours at the cafe, the bottom of my feet are itching like crazy, and my face is breaking out for a whole different reason.


Sunday, May 11, 2008

Proof

I have always believed that all mysteries in life can be solved by mathematics. Last night, I found proof:



Saturday, May 10, 2008

It's All Been Said

“It always fascinated me how people go from loving you madly to nothing at all, nothing. It hurts so much. When I feel someone is going to leave me, I have a tendency to break up first before I get to hear the whole thing. Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one. When I think that its over, that I’ll never see him again like this… well yes, I’ll bump into him, we’ll meet our new boyfriend and girlfriend, act as if we had never been together, then we’ll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drink up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well. There’s a moment in life where you can’t recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can’t live without him. And even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love his sneezes more than anyone else’s kisses."
- Julie Delpy as Marion in "2 Days in Paris."

I laughed hysterically when I read this. It's funny because it's true. It's funny because it is so sad and so true that you have no choice but to laugh. Sometimes I wonder why I ever bother saying anything at all, because it seems that everything completely genius has already been said by somebody else.


Friday, May 09, 2008

The Catch

Once upon a time, there was a king who commissioned a project. "Find me a ring," he said, "That will make the saddest person joyful, and the happiest person weep." His minions traveled far and wide to find such a ring. Finally, after years of failure, they returned to the kingdom and bumped into an old man. The old man told them he could make the ring. He took a plain gold band and inscribed the words: "This too shall pass."

(Of course I stole this from something I read long ago and make no representations to the accuracy of anything.)

Sometime during my first year of law school, I began reading some random girl's blog that I was randomly linked to on the internet somewhere. And for the past year or so, I had been keeping up with her blog on a pretty regular basis. Now, of course I realize that this may seem alarmingly stalkerish to any sensible person out there with lives of their own, but like I said, I'm in law school and I have no life. Reading about someone, anyone, who don't spend most of their time either buried under law books, complaining about being buried under law books, or feeling guilty b/c they're not buried under law books at the moment is my only connection to the outside world. But today, her blog stopped. Finito. And even though I had never met this girl, have no idea where she lives or where she went, I felt a tiny bit...abandoned. One less thing to distract me from my responsibilities. One more thing that gets filed into "the past." (I'm going to need additional storage space for that file soon.) And while I was sitting here staring at my blank computer screen, I started thinking: people always say that we never really appreciate something until it's gone. This is probably true most of the time. But if we do stop and force ourselves to face the reality that this moment won't last, most likely we will lose our ability to enjoy it and start worrying about the future. Stupid Catch-22s.


Thursday, May 08, 2008

Competition

Since my building is under construction today, I forced myself out of my pajamas and headed to a cafe to escape the noise and to study for my Evidence final. After driving 45 minutes through traffic, I arrived at my destination only to find that I had lugged everything I own in my giant tote except my Evidence book. Faced with 5:15pm weekday traffic, I decided to sit back and entertain myself with a large mango green tea and UsWeekly, while feeling chill and superior to all the other students cramming for finals around me. Before I even finished one magazine, however, the pattern of all these gossip stories was becoming abundantly clear. For every Jennifer Aniston + John Mayer story, there are photo insets of Bard Pitt + Angelina Jolie + the 10 million babies they have spawned splattered all over the page. And on the next page, there is inevitably a time-line history of all the people Jennifer and Brad have dated since their break-up from way back when. When two people break up, the focus always seems to be: Who won? Who is looking hotter? Who found their new bf/gf first? Who has the better new bf/gf? Amidst all the competition, there is almost no time to mourn the loss of someone who changed your life, and maybe changed you, and re-discover yourself again. The pressure to pretty yourself up and go pluck some decent looking guy off the street and throw him in your bed is overwhelming. After all, we all seem to have something to prove. But what exactly is that something? That we can get some? That we're still desirable to someone, anyone, out there? Shouldn't that go without saying?



Next 5 >>